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MAGAZINE  OF  TRAVEL : 


A   WOSX  DXYOTXD  TO 


trills. 


IN  YAHIOtJS  OOUMTRIBB, 


BOTH  OF  THE  OLD  WORLD  AND  THE  NEW. 


WARKBN  I8HAM,        liv«*m««- 


L  INTRODUOnON.  I  m.  ME.  IfiHAM'S  TRAVBIA 

n.  D&  DUFFIELD'S  TRAYSLS^        I  lY.  AN  BVGINSBR'S  TBAYEI& 

V.  CRITIQUB  ON  TRAYEIA 


PBnmD  BT  B.   BARNS,   TRIBUNB  OrnGB|   WOODWABD  AYBNITB. 

1857. 


;    i 


470501 


>< 


>  • 


.PREFATORY.    '  m 


I>  REF^TORY. 


It  was  a  great  imstake  of  ours  to  suffer  the  words,  ^  And  Gasket  of 
Literature  and  Science,"  to  slide  into  our  Prospectus,  in  small  letters 
underneath  the  general  head.  When  we  adopted  the  general  title, 
^  Magazine  of  Travels,"  we  supposed  we  had  selected  one  which  would, 
of  OGurse,  he  understood  as  indicating  the  character  of  the  work,  and 
wfaoi,  to  give  it  a  little  n>ore  dignity,  we  inscribed  the  above  words 
undemeatii,  we  intended  them  more  as  a  commentary  upon  it,  than  as 
an  addition  to  it  Travels,  to  be  good  for  anything,  must  be  literary, 
and,  indeed,  they  constitute  one  of  the  principal  departments  in  the 
literature  of  the  day.  And  they  certainly  cannot  be  of  a  very  high 
order,  without  being,  at  the  same  time,  to  some  extent,  ^ientifia  He 
must  be  a  very  superfidal  traveler,  who  should  never  undertake  to 
classify  and  explain  the  new  and  strange  fiicts  which  obtrude  them, 
selves  upon  Ids  observation ;  but,  as  fiir  as  he  does  this,  he  becomes 
scientific 

That  is  all — and  yet  we  hear  of  those  who  have  taken  alarm  at  these 
words,  and  consider  themselves  excluded  from  the  list  of  our*  subscri- 
bers, because  they  are  not  literary  and  scientific  persons.  Pshaw ! 
These  are  the  very  ones  we  are  depending  upon  to  make  up  the  mass 
of  our  subscribers — the  very  ones  to  appreciate,  and  be  interested  in- 
just  sudi  a  work — ^the  very  class  of  persons,  who  so  nobly  sustained 
us  as  editor  and  publisher  of  the  Michigan  Farmer,  a  work  far  more 
sdentific  than  this  is  proposed  to  be,  its  numerous  subscribers  and 
readers  being  the  intelligent  farmers  of  our  State,  their  wives,  their 
sons  and  their  daughters. 

Talk  not  to  us  of  the  cities  and  large  towns  as  the  appropriate  field 
for  such  enterprises.  We  are  not  insensible  of  their  claims  to  con- 
rideration,  and  hope  not  to  overlook  them,  or  be  overlooked  by  them. 
We  expect  a  ready  support  from  the  more  highly  educated  and  profes- 
rional  few,  as  well  as  from  the  intelligent  tradesmen,  mechanics,  dsc, 
congregated  in  these  commerdal  centres.  But  we  say  no  more  than 
they  themselves  know  as  well  as  we,  in  expressing  it  as  our  well* 


IT.  PREFATORY. 


weighed  conviction,  that  there  are  ten  in  the  lx>untry,  who  have  aa 
appreciating  taste  for  a  work  like  this,  where  there  is  one  m  the  city-— 
yes,  ten  where  there  is  one. 

And  what  is  it,  afler  ail,  but  miscellaneous  reading,  level  to  the  com* 
monest  capmMty,  and  adapted,  above  all  other,  to  the  popular  mind  I 
True,  we  addod  h  f()urth  headjx)  our  prospectus,  using  the  same  unfor- 
tunate words,  but  it  was  thrown  in  merely  to  meet  a  contingency. 
Any  one  can  see,  that  we  had  made  pretty  full  provision  for  filling  up 
the  pages  of  our  Magazine  independently  of  it,  and  that,  at  most,  but 
a  very  small  space,  if  any  at  all,  would  be  Icit  for  any  such  use.  To 
remove  every  stumbling-block  then,  and  throw  the  door  wide  open  to 
all,  let  the  offensive  words  henceforth  be  stricken  from  our  prospectus. 

Not  that  we  have  any  cause  of  discouragement,  as  matters  have 
hitherto,  stood.  Contrariwise,  the  proposition  we  have  sent  out,  has 
been  most  kindly  received,  and  cheering  words  have  come  back  to  us 
from  nearly  every  portion  of  the  State,  while  many  sections  seem  to 
be  all  astir  with  clubs  and  clubbing.  Few  publications  have  made 
their  debut  under  more  favorable  auspices.  But  a  single  ob^iade 
seemed  to  lie  in  the  way  of  a  general  circulation  among  all  classes  of 
our  population,  and  now,  that  that  sin^e  obstacle  is  removed,  we  see 
no  reason  why  our  subscription  list  may  not  rise  to  a  figure,  which  hitf 
no  parallel  in  the  annals  of  the  West. 

The  very  low  price  at  which  the  work  is  published,  makes  a  large 
circulation,  and  strictly  advance  payment,  indispensable  to  success. 
And  for  all  this  we  rely,  in  the  first  instance,  upon  those  tried  friends 
who  have  so  gallantly  stood  by  us  in  days  that  are  past  Their  name 
it  legion.  These,  with  the  many  new  auxiliaries  already  enlisting, 
have  placed  us,  even  at  this  early  stage,  above  the  contingency  of  fiul- 
ure.  The  permanence  of  our  work  has  thus  become  a  Jixed  fauct^  and, 
in  view  of  it,  we  name  the  first  of  May  next  as  the  time  for  the  distri- 
bution of  the  liberal  premiums  we  offer.  All  subscribers  will  be  sup- 
plied with  back  numbers.     See  prospectus  on  last  page  of  cover. 

If  any  one  shall  discover,  in  some  of  the  first  numbers,  a  few  things 
which  have  strayed  from  as  into  the  newspapers  of  the  day,  he  will 
not  regret  to  see  tl)p.m  repeated  in  the  form  in  which  we  give  them 
here."  These  few  things,  (which  not  even  one  of  our  readers  may  have 
seen),  are  so  connected  with  the  main  material  of  the  work,  and  are  of 
such  a  character,  that  jio  one  would  wish  them  excluded.  We  enter- 
tain no  fears  of  complaint  on  that  score.  Much  more  cause,  for  com- 
plaint would  there  be,  should  we  decline,  for  that  reason,  to  give  them 
their  appropriate  place  in  the  work. 


INTRODUCTOET. 

A 


USTTRODUCTORY. 


What,  another  Magazine  afloat  upon  the  great  sea  of  adventure  t 
Yes,  another,  and  it  must  take  its  chance.  And  yet,  tho'  it  be  another, 
it'oertainly  does  not  exhibit  any  very  striking  family  resemblance. 

To  our  disparagement  as  a  pox)p]e,  it  has  been  said,  that  a  Magazine, 
to  be  sustained  among  us,  must  be  light  and  frothy  t—  must 
swim  full  with  those  beautiful  creations  which  bubble  up  in  the  brain 
of  the  dreaming  sentimentalist.  It  may  be  so,  but  we  have  taken  the 
liberty  to  raise  a  question  on  this  subject,  believing  as  we  do,  that 
there  is  truth  enough  in  the  world,  practical  and  real,  tragic  and  comic, 
to  stir  the  sleepiest  mind,  to  entertain  the  listliest,  instruct  the  dullest, 
and  even  to  amuse  the  silliest,  without  resort  to  those  sentimental 
trickeries,  which  constitute,  to  a  great  extent,  the  current  literature  of 
the  day.  We  should  be  sorry  to  believe,  that  our  subscribers  desire 
us  to  play  the  peacock  for  them — we  have  6  higher  appreciation  of 
Michigan  mind. 

This  Magazine,  has,  we  trust,  a  higher  mission  than  that.  Its  pages 
are  ci>nsecrated  to  lessons  of  instruction  drawn  from  common  si»nse 
views  of  men  and  things,  from  new  and  strange  phases  of  human  char- 
acter and  human  enterprise,  as  witnessed  in  various  and  distant  quarters 
of  the  globe.  Its  design  is  to  bring  home  to  the  hearthstones  of  its 
readers  the  advantages  of  f«jreign  travel,  m  truly  as  tho'  they  hiul 
crossed  oceans  and  continents  to  secure  them — to  give  them  for  a  few 
shillings  what  it  would  cost  them  thousands  of  dollars  to  go  abroad 
and  accumulate  f«)F  themselvt^s — in  a  word,  to  do  for  them  what  would 
be  almost  equivalent  to  escorting  them,  at  our  o^n  expense,  thro'  far 
distant  countries,  and  making  them  welcome  to  share  with  us  in  the 
pleasures  and  advantages  so  dearly  purchased. 

We  have  been  emboldened  to  this  step  by  the  calls  which  have  been 
made  upon  us  for  the  results  of  our  travels  in  the  East — calls  which 
have  been  numerous  and  persistent,  and  some  -of  them  from  quarters 
entitled  to  much  consideration.  Our  notes  would  probably  soon  have 
been  in  the  hands  of  a  book  publisher,  had  we  not  concluded  to  send 


TL  JNTKODUCTOBT. 


Uiem  out  in  this  form.  The  portion  of  them,  far  the  most  interesting 
to  us,  has  never  yet  been  published,  but  will  be  given  in  this  work. 

We  congratulate  ourselves  and  our  subscribers  on  the  accession  to 
our  cplunms  of -the  travels  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Dufiield.  No  little  disap- 
pointment was  felt  by  their  failure  to  appear  as  announced  some  time 
since.  This  disappointment  will  now  be  repaired,  and,  at  the  same  time^ 
our  columns  enriched.  The  reputation  of  the  author  for  habits  of  close 
and  acccurate  observaticm,  sound  judgment,  and  ripe  sdiolarship,  will 
stamp  with  much  importance  his  contributions  to  the  stock  of  Foreign 
Travels. 

The  sketches  of  Western  border  life  will  add,  we  trust,  a  pleasing 
variety. 

We  have  been  prompted  to  this  enterprise,  to  some  extent,  we  own, 
by  an  irrepressible  desire  for  something  to  do,  and,  at  the  same  time 
to  be  of  some  use  to  somebody.  No  man  is  safe,  none  can  tell  what 
he  will  come  to,  who  has  no  useful  employment  upon  his  hands.  In 
the  absence  of  such  employment,  we  have  absolutely  been  in  danger 
of  taking  to  politics,  and  we  know  not  thro'  what  dark  labyrinths  we 
may  have  been  led,  or  into  what  turbid  waters  we  may  have  been 
plunged,  had  not  this  open  path  to  honorable  usefulness,  lain  before  us* 

The  truth  is,  we  have  been  ill  at  ease  from  the  time  we  laid  down 
the  editorial  pen,  and  in  taking  it  up  again,  we  feel  very  much  like  one 
who  has  been  astray.  Far  away^  truly,  have  we  wandered,  but  a  kind 
providence  has  been  over  us,  and  aroimd  about  us,  and  has  brought  ua 
back  to  tell  what  our  eyes  have  seen  and  our  ears  have  heard.  Joy- 
fully shall  we  make  our  monthly  visits  to  our  subscribers,  to  commune 
with  them,  at  their  own  firesides,  during  these  long  winter  evenings^ 
upon  what  we  have  witnessed  in  countries  far  away,  endeavoring,  in 
all  fidelity,  to  transfer  to  their  minds,  warm  and  glowing,  the  impres- 
sions we  received,  as  we  passed  from  object  to  object,  and  from  scene 
to  scene,  in  traversing  the  most  interesting  portion  of  the  globe— 
impressions  which  are  still  as  vivid  in  our  own  mind,  as  though  but 
of  yesterday. 


^^m  0f  Crabels. 


notcslof  foreign  travel 


CHAPTER  L 
JMaridAm  and  leave-tMng  <f  Oomnirf.'^^Sea^idltimj'^Whio  IKn9mgm%'^Tk$ 
BotUt  cfo  Order,  BCR  qf  JF^  dbc^ — T<rry  Mmdt—Cfianfs  Ccmewaiy^  Arriwdf^ 
Overhauiod  hy  OwUm  Eduae  OffUen^^-HoUi  in  lAverpoo^^AUending  Church,  4a 

EuBOPA,  24  HoxTBS  Sail  East  of  Newioundujos  )   . 

AtJOTTBT.  16th,  1852.  ) 

X«tltiide4B60North,LoitftltQde47  18  West,  Detroit  time,  )i  piit  19,  dklp*t  time,  li  to  S  P.  V. 
IMX  tnOm  from  Hew  York. 

Halfway,  nearly,  across  the  ocean,  puahing  our  way  in  tins  migh^ 
steamer,  under  a  Ml  press  of  sail,  and  witli  a  powerftil  head  of  steam, 
at;  the  rate  of  twelve  and  a  half  miles  per  hour,  I  turn  aside  to  transfer 
to  a  letter  sheet  from  my  journal  some  of  the  thoughts  I  have  pemied 
more  immediately  for  your  sake  and  the  dear  ones  with  yco» 
I  fpvB  you  the  rimple  detail  in  the  Amplest  form,  presuming  it  will  be 
therefore  the  most  acceptable  to  you.  My  days  of  fiyvsied  scenes,  of 
viinons  <^1he  imagination,  have  long  since  vanidied  before  tiie  sober 
realities  of  life ;  nor  has  an  ocean's  botmdless  sur&oe,  spreading  out 
inimitably  before  me,  and  the  novel  scene  of  this  little  moving  worM 
afloat  upon  the  waters,  awakened  any  desire  to  substitute  thecrMions 
of  tte  mind  for  the  realities  surrotoiding  and  transpiring  within  me. 
Reflections  with  me  are  realities,  and  you  shall  have  them  as  they  rise 
and  mingle  with  the  events  and  scenes  I  shall  attempt  to  describe,  if 
perohsaes  I  may  aid  you  in  taking  a  survey  of  my  path-way  across  the 
deep. 

On  my  way  across  the  North  River  a  gentleman  in  a  hack,  drawn 
np  on  tiM  fenry  boat  near  diat  in  which  I  was,  when  we  had  passed 
moftB  t2ian  hatf  way  across  the  river,  suddenly  thrust  out  his  head  with 
•cne  impatience^  and  cried  out,  ^  driver,  when  is  that  boat  going  to 
take  vs  acroflsf'  I  smfled  and  answered,  ^  we  are  nearly  two  Ihlrda 
of  our  way  aeross  the  rtver,''    ^  Ididna'  know  it,"  said  theScotdnnan, 


Hl^Al, 


K0TB8  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


^'  it  seemed  sae  still  and  quiet/'  I  found  a  oouple  of  days  afterward 
that  my  Sootdi  firiend  was  a  Presbyterian  minister  from  Quebec,  pastor 
of  the  established  church  there,  and  a  very  pleasant  and  agreeable  man ; 
but  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  learn  his  name. 

Just  as  the  hour  of  one  arrived,  the  "  Europa''  moved  from  her 
moorings,  and  having  been  saluted  by  the  Collins  steamy  lying  &t  the 
foot  of  Oanal  street,  on  the  city  side,  with  two  heavy  guns,  as  she 
rounded  into  the  stream  and  set  her  face  towards  tibe  ocean,  two  thun- 
dering camion  boomed  forth  from  her  bow,  and  the  detonations  were 
repeated  in  course  of  a  few  minutes.  I  thought  of  home ;  and  a  t^usand 
swelling  reminiscences  came  rushing  up  as  I  began  fairly,  for  the  first 
time,  -to  realize  the  fact,  that  I  was  on  my  way^froi^  my  native  land 
and  destined  to  be  a  wanderer  for  months  to  come !  My  reverie  was 
interrupted  by  the  remark  of  Mr.  W.  at  my  side,  "  well.  Doctor,  it  is 
teo  late  to  change  our  minds,  even  if  we  washed  it ;"  and  so  on  my 
Nrajtingup,  I  soon  realized  the  truth  of  thi^  rfemark.  The  numerous 
towns  and  villages  that  stud  the  shore  of  the  noble  bay  of  New  York, 
sprc|ad  themselves  before  our  view.  The  day  was  bright,  the  clouds 
of.tl^e  morning. had  dispersed;  the  sun  shone  propitiously  ;  all  sur- 
rounding nature  seemed  to  teem  with  fresh  life  and  gladness,  and  I 
sVipd  and  gazed  with  wonder  on  the  scene,  as  our  steady  vessel  moved 
iQl^j^tically  forward  on  her  way  to  the  ocean.  No  le^s  than  nine  noble 
sliips,  and  one  from  China  passed  us  by,  ere  we  reached  the  further  end 
of  Coney  Island.  Soon  after,  the  bustling  movements  cm  the  quarter 
djddc  andicated  the  preparation  for  the  departure  of  the  pilot.  A  small 
boat  aj^roaehed  the  steamer ;  the  captain  gave  eommand  to  tti^  ^i{^-: 
iieer  to  stop ;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  pEpt  retreated  over  the  side 
of  our  vessel  into  his  own  little  skifi^  within  a  short  distance  of  his 
cnufiing  vessel.  And  as  the  steward  took  leave  of  him,  he  (flapped  into 
Hi  hand  a  bottle  of  wine,  or  perhaps  ,spme'st9*oqger  stuff,  and  the  laf(t 
link  tiiat  bound  us  to  our  native  sliores  seemed  then  to  have  been 
s^vered,  and  we  were^  in  good  earnest,  on  our  way  across  tiie  mi^y 
deep. 

The  rolling  waves  sood  began,  to  tell  upo9  the  moticHis  o(  the  vessel ; 
but  unexpectedly  I  was  not  disturbed,  and  partook  of  an  excellent  and  • 
hearty  dinner  and  subsequently  of  a  cup  of  tea.  Mr.  W.  had  to  take 
lu8  berth  forthwith ;  and  one  ailer  another  of  the  ladies  and  other 
pasaangers  disappeared,  and  yielded  themselves  to  the  disU^essing  sen.;- 
sations  of  sea-sickness.  Tb&i  night  I  slept  but  little,  my  mind  was  teo 
busy  to  admit  of  the  entrance  or.  entertainment  of  sleep.  It  wovU 
have  been  better  for  me  however  had  I  been  aUe  to  have,  retried  mjr ' 
nervous  system  with  repose.    The  next  morning,  I  was  ready  for- 


OGKAUr  LIF]S»— PASSENGBBa 


bfreskfibBty  and  supposed  I  should  escape  marvellously,  when  about  ten 
o'clock  I  found  it  needful  to  retire  to  my  berth.  Soon  after  I  Ibund 
the  bile  stirred  up  rather  copiously  within  me ;  but  by  keeping  quiet 
and  eating  nothing  through  the  day,  on  the  next  morning  I  felt  relieved, 
and  ready  for  break&st ;  and  have  since  been  in  no  wise  disturbed  by 
^pa  nickneas,  but  on  the  contrary,  surprised  to  find  how  wonderfully  my 
^atem  has  adi^ted  itself  to  its  new  condition,  and  how  totally  the 
threateninga  of  disease  against  which  I  had  to  guard  myself  so  care* 
fully,  before  leaving  New  York,  by  medicines  and  other  means,  have 
disappeared.  Even  that  unpleasant  affection  of  my  head  and  throat, 
firom  which  I  have  suffered  so  much  for  months,  seems  to  have  sud- 
denly left.  The  Ocean  air  is  cool — ^the  sultry  heat  of  New  York  is 
gone,  and  I  could  not  have  believed,  how  quickly  the  transit  can  be 
made,  from  oppressive  sweltering  heat,  to  a  fine  bracing  and  delightful 
atmosj^re.  It  has  been  but  a  succession  of  agreeable  changes  since 
We  started.  Our  motion  has  been  quickened  hy  fair  winds,  since  the 
fost  day,  and  we  are  now  nearly  half  way  across  the  Atlantic  With 
tiie  exception  of  seeing  occasionally  a  vessel  or  two  in  the  distance* 
some  fishing  smacks  ofl  Sable  Island,  the  steamer  Canada  on  her  way 
to  Boston,  and  occasionally  a  school  of  porpoises  or  a  spouting  whale, 
there  has  been  but  little  outside  the  ship  to  hold  the  attention  for  any 
time.  Within,  we  have  all  the  comforts  and  luxuries  that  could  be 
desired.  Our  passengers  are  sufficient  in  number  to  give  abundant 
society,  and  not  too  many  to  make  it  disagreeable.  They  are  from 
diffisroit  nations  and  parts  of  the  world,  Germans,  Spaniards,  Cubans, 
En^ish,  Sootch,  Brazilian,  Swede,  and  Russian,  with  half  a  dozen 
Americans.  At  our  section  of  the  table,  the  variety  is  nearly  as  great 
as  in  the  whole  assortment.  A  sketdi  of  their  characters  may  be  of 
[Dterest  to  you.  Our  table  in  the  main  cabin  is  to  the  left  of  thp  door  as 
you  enter ;  on  the  other  side  a  longer  table  stretdies  half  the  extent  of 
QftS  cabin,  at  the'head  of  which  the  Captain,  a  very  gentlemanly  unob- 
tiusive  man  presides.  At  the  head  of  ours  is  seated  a  regular  clever 
John  Bull,  an  elderly  gentleman  with  white  hair,  called  the  '^  Admiralty 
Agent,^  and  ranking  as  lieutenant  in  the  British  Navy.  He  has  charge 
of  the  mail  and  immediately  on  his  arrival  at  Liverpool  will  proceed 
with  it  to  London  and  take  his  turn  (three  weeks  .thereafter)  in  con- 
dao^ing  another  mail  on  some  subsequent  steamer  then  to  leave  Liver- 
pool. *  He  is  a  very  •  agreeable  and  companionable  man  to  whom  I 
have  taken  quite  a  liking ;  he  is  also  Chaplain  of  the  vesseL  It  is  his 
duty  every  Sabbath,  as  he  informs  me,  to  assemble  all  of  the 
passengers  and  crew  that  are  willing  to  attend,  and  read  to  them  the 
English  service,  which  on  the  last  Sabbath  he  did  with  all  becoming 


10  NOTES  OF  FOilEiaN  TRAVEL 

reverence,  and  even  greater  propriety  than  I  have  sometimes  heard 
the  Liturgy  read.  I  found  him  decidedly  an  evangelical  man,  Oalvin- 
istic  in  his  views^d  an  experienced  christian,quite  well  read  in  Theology 
and  a  thorough  millenarian.  He  is  reading  Cnmming's  on  the  Revelation, 
and  says  he  vrill  hand  it  to  me  in  a  day  or  so,  desiring  very  much 
that  I  also  should  read  it.  "  I  am  in  no  ways  bigoted,"  'said  he  to 
the  Scotch  minister,  on  asking  Mm  to  preach,  *'  but  it  is  made  my 
duty  to  read  the  service,  otherwise  I  should  be  pleased  if  you  would 
conduct  all  the  exercises  in  your  own  way." 

On  the  left  of  the  Lieutenant  is  seated  at  the  table  a  Swedish  Gaptatn, 
who  for  three  years  past  has  been  sailing  from  Califomia  to  Peru  and 
CSiili,  and  is  now  returning  from  San  Frandsco  to  his  own  country. 
He  is  about  from  thirty  to  thirty-five  years  years  of  age,  speaks  the 
English  and  Spanish  languages,  and  is  as  modesty  simple-beartedi 
humble  and  consitent  a  christian  as  I  ever  met.     It  is  delightful  to 
witness  Ms  modesty,  and  feel  the  influence  of  Ms  simple  unaflfeoted 
piety.     Next  to  Mm  is  the  late  Brazilian  Consul,  resident  at  New 
York^  a  Roman  Catholic,  going  with  his  family  to  Europe,  wbo  also  is 
a  very  intelligent  and  agreeable  companion.    Immediately  opposite  is 
a  Spaniard,  who  oocaisionally  makes  an  effort  to  pronounce  a  word  or 
two  in  ^English,  and  beside  him  a  Scotchman,  for  some  years  a  resident 
of  Cuba,  who  has  become  Spaniard  all  over ;  and  having  drawn  a  prize 
of  1100,000  in  a  lottery,  is  likewise  on  Ms  way  to  Ms  native  land  with 
Ms  fiunily  to  visit  it  after  sixteen  years  absence.     Next  to  him  is  a 
regular  Cockney,  who  has  not  yet  opened  Ms  mouth  to  speak,  but 
abundantly  and  regularly  to  consume  the  viands,  soups,  fhiits,  ibc., 
and  especially  the  wines,  which  he  is  supplied  wilJi  by  the  waiters. 
On  the  right  of  our  Lieutenant  is  seated  a  Louisianian  from  New 
Orleans,  a  pleasant  old  bachelor  who  seems  to  love  and  live  wholly  for 
good  eating  and  drinking  and  plenty  of  both.    Mr.  W.  and  myself 
occupy  the  intermediate  space,  and  the  other  end  of  the  table  is  sur- 
mounted by  a  Russian,  who  speaks  our  language  very  well,  and  has 
much  less  of  affection  for,  and  studied  effort  to  secure  abundance  of  the 
good  tMngs  around,  is  much  more  pleasant  and  good  natured,  bat 
devotes  Mmself  as  regularly  and  as  deeply  to  the  wine,  as  Ijie  one 
immediately  oppo&dte  him.    It  is  really  very  surprising  to  hear  the 
constant  call  for  Claret,  Madeira,  Sherry,  Brown  Stout,  Ale,  Cider  and 
Brandy  around  us.    How  much  they  drink !    Yet  without  any  appear- 
ance of  intoxication.    The  Swede,  Mr.  W.  and  myself  are  the  oijy 
representatives  of  temperance  principles  at  t^e  table,  yet  witiial  the 
oonversation  is  often  instructing  and  always  pleasant 

I  am  perfectly  surprised  at  the  table  arrangements  on  board.     Viv^ 


LUXURIES,— INCREASINa  SPEED.  •  11 

tunes  »  daj  the  passengers  assemble  to  eat  Breakfast  at  half-past . 
eight,  lunch  at  twelve,  dinner  at  four,  tea  at  half-past  seven,  supper  at 
ten.  Three  ordinary  meals  and  occasionally  a  piece  of  cheese  or  a 
plate  of  soup  suffice  Mr.  W.  and  myself.  The  dinner  ranges  through 
an  hour  and  a  half  to  accomplish  its  courses.  Soup,  Fish,  Roast  Meats 
and  Fowls  of  land  and  water,  and  various  French  dishes,  abundance 
of  all  sorts  of  vegetables,  salads,  lobsters,  oysters,  fruits  of  different 
kinds,  and  all  paraded  on  plated  dishes  in  a  style,  and  all  equal  to  the 
studied  entertainments  of  gentlemen  of  fortune.  I  had  no  idea  of  the 
abundance  of  comforts,  and  the  excessive  attentions  paid  to  multiply 
them,  which  are  to  be  had  on  these  steamers.  Indeed  it  seems  as  if 
the  whole  time  of  the  waiters  was  occupied  in  ministering  not  only  to 
the  wants,  but  the  whims  and  caprices  of  those  who  find  their  only 
enjoyment  in  eating  and  drinking ;  but  they  too  often  forget  the  good- 
ness  of  God,  who  throws  around  the  protecting  wing  of  His  providence 
and  dispenses  so  richly  of  His  bounties. 

August  17.— Our  motion  through  the  water  increases  every  day  in 
rapidity  as,  by  thirty  tons  per  diem  of  coal  consumed,  we  lighten  the 
biurden  of  the  vessel.  The  last  24  hours,  we  made  295  miles,  the 
preceding  289|^,  the  preceding  278,  and  have  already  accomplished 
full  one-half  of  the  distance  of  our  voyage.  Our  Latitude  at  12  A.  M. 
this  day,  was  51*^  11  min.  North,  and  Longtitude  40^  27  min.We8t 
Our  12  o^clock  comes  more  than  two  hours  earlier  than  yours.  The 
wind  continues  strong.  Our  vessel  rocks  more  than  for  several  days ; 
clouds  are  thickening,  indications  of  rain  approaching,  and  the  spray 
dashes  occasionally  over  the  vessel's  sides.  The  wind  is  cool  and  damp, 
but  none  are  complaining  yet  of  sea-sickness.  Our  vesssl  affords  a  fine 
extent  for  walking,  and  the  distance  from  bow  to  stem  and  back  ten 
times,  exceeds  a  mile,  which  for  exercise  I  accomplish  twice  or  thrice  a 
day. 

August  21.  Cape  dear  is  in  view,  and  the  sight  of  land  gladdens 
every  passenger.  He  that  *^  holds  the  winds  in  his  fist,''  has  kept  their 
rage  allayed,  and  given  them  just  the  direction  and  force  appropriate 
to  render  our  voyage  one  uninterrupted,  rapid  and  direct  flight  across 
the  mighty  ocean.  A  north  wind  prevailed  for  nearly  seven  out  of 
tile  ten  days,  varying  but  little  occasionally  to  the  east  or  west,  as  we 
have  sailed  over  an  extent  of  two  thousand  mjles,*  our  mighty  ves- 
sel pursuing  her  way,  with  ceaseless  impulse  from  both  wind  and  steam. 
Except' when  the  pilot  left  her  off  Sandy  Hook,  her  paddle  wheels 

*I  peredycd  Aftar  rmcUbag  London,  tliAt  an  »ronMit,  who  hAd  afoended  tmrn.  HuA  city  mim 
Aijt  before  mj  anrlrml,  lald,  after  hli  descent,  that  he  had  enconntered  a  aoatiieni  wtaid  tat 
Ihe  higher  feglona  of  the  atmo^pheie  orer  London,  and  added  that  its  preralence  moat  have  bean 


19  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVELl 

have  never  intermitted  a  single  stroke.  A  more  pleasant  and  prosper- 
ous Yoyage  thus  far  across  the  ocean,  the  captain  informs  his  passen- 
gers, his  ship  Europa  has  never  made  during  a  period  of  eight  years, 
and  but  one  only  in  a  ft  w  hours  less  time.  By  twelve  o'clock  we  were 
abreast  of  Torey  Island,  a  rugged  cluster  of  rocky  difis  rising  in  the 
Irish  channel,  which,  according  to  the  ancient  Irish  tales,  were  once  the 
&vorite  resort  of  a  wild  and  predatory  tribe,  who  Im  re  the  name 
which,  in  modem  times,  has  been  used  to  designate  those  in  English 
politics  who  loved  violence  and  oppression,  treachery  and  blood,  and 
in  our  country,  the  party  during  our  revolutionary  struggle  whose 
name  and  memory  every  patriot  must «  ver  abhor. 

The  Europa  is  one  of  the  Cunard  steamers,  and  though  not  equal  in 
sailing  speed  to  "  the  Collins"  vessels,  is  remarkably  strong  and  firmly 
built.  Her  length  is  two  hundred  and  ninety-two  feet,  and  her  bow 
twenty -five  in  thickness,  a  heavy,  solid  mass  of  wood.  Before  she  sails 
the  admiralty  authority  regulates  the  amount  of  steam  pressure  she 
shkll  have  to  propel  her,  and  locks  up  the  weight  imposed;  so  that 
beyond  it  neither  engineer  nor  captain  can  have  access  to  it,  to  give 
her  more  force.  From  ten  and  a  half  te  twelve  and  a  half  miles  per 
hour,  night  and  day,  she  has  pressed  her  way  ;  and  for  three  days  suc- 
cessively, when  the  wind  was  directly  on  her  beam  and  blowing  strong, 
she  varied  but  one  mile  during  twenty-four  hours  in  the  distances  she 
run,  although  the  ocean  rolled  its  mighty  waves  with  sufficient  force 
and  height  to  make  us  feel,  that  she  is  but  a  feeble  thiTig  compared 
with  His  Omnipotence  who  holds  its  wattTs  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand. 

As  she  approached  the  coast  and  pursued  her  way  up  "  by  the  North 
Old,"  "  the  giant's  causeway"  app«  nrod  in  sight.  We  passed  so  near 
as  to  afford  us  a  perfect  view  of  that  wondrous  basaltic  mass  of  head- 
land ;  and  leaving  Rathlin  Island  on  the  lefl,  as  she  rounded  into  the 
channel  between  **  the  Emerald  Isle"  and  the  "  mulls"  of  Islay  and  of 
Cantyre— headlands  on  the  coast  of  Scotland, — it  seemed  as  if  the 
wind  varied  to  maintain  its  position  on  our  beam  as  the  noble  vessel 
changed  her  course. 

During  the  voyage  1  have  obtained  daily  the  latitude  and  longitude, 
which  were  detei  mined  at  twelve  o'clock,  llie  captain  politely  asked 
me  into  his  office  to  inspect  his  charts,  and  understand  the  coast  as  we 
came  round  Ireland.     We  made  our  voyage  as  follows : 


44 
M 


Date    Deg.  Mln.  N.     Deg.  Min.  W.        MUei. 
Aug.  18,  Liit.&8,  00,    liong.  88,  00,    Dtot.  996 
19,    »*    M.  00,       "      26,  02,        "    295 
W,    ♦•    64^  4T,       "      16,  8ft,       «    801Ji 
81,    abreast  of  Torey  lalaiid,  289 

to  Llrerpool,  268    • 

■■  « ■» 

1449j^. 

lfi98M  ^^^^ 

Whole  diBtanee  from  New  York,  -  -  -  -  -       tfi4B 


Date.    Deg.  Mln.  N.    Deg.  Hin.  W.      Milee. 

▲•g.  It,  Lat.  40,  88,  Long.  69,  2ft,  Dtat.  281 

*r  ^3.    "    «,  19,  "      64,  44,      "288 

«*    14,    »*    64,41,  "      19,84,      "    267    . 

w    IB,    «*    66,  27,  "      58,  26,      "    278 

«*    16,    »    68,  80,  "      47,  12,      "    28BH 

•  ♦    It    •*    61,  11,  **      «,  «7,      "    29ft 


AREIVAIi^— INSPECTION.  IS 

As  the  night  came  on,  and  we  passed  various  vessels  in  the  channel, 
signals  were  exchanged  by  rockets. 

22.  By  daybreak  we  had  passed  the  Isle  of  Man.  Approaching  the 
mouth  of  the  Mersey,  we  encountered  the  fogs  of  England.  It  was 
not  until  the  sun  was  well  up,  before  they  dispersed  sufficiently,  to 
enable  us  to  discern  numerous  sail  and  steam  vessels,  and  to  take  a 
pilot  The  Dublin  steamboat  came  near  to  us  as  we  entered  the  river, 
and  tried  to  race  with  us ;  but  after  an  hour's  effort  fell  back.  The 
pilot  entered  at  eight  in  the  morning,  and  by  a  quarter  past  nine  we 
bad  anchored  in  the  channel  between  Liverpool  and  Birkeuhe^.  The 
guns  which  were  fired  from  the  "  Europa"  and  the  "Arctic,"  one  of  the 
Collins  steamers,  echoed  with  great  grandeur  from  the  heights  of  Birk« 
enhead  and  the  hills  on  which  Liverpool  stands. 

Tlie  voyage  has  been  accomplished  from  casting  off  chains  to  casting 
anchor,  allowing  for  time  gained,  in  ten  days  and  eighteen  hours,  and 
from  pilot  to  pilot  in  ten  days  and  thirteen  and  a  half  hours.  In  every 
respect  it  has  been  prosperous — much  less  sickness  than  I  had  expected  ; 
pleasant  company  ;  nothing  disagreeable  in  passengers  or  officers ;  ves* 
sel  well  governed,  as  much  regularity  as  in  a  garrison ;  bells  strikioig 
every  half  hour,  in  numbers  from  one  to  eight,  when  watch  was  (dianged, 
and  meals  served  with  punctuality.  My  heart  rejoiced  in  the  kindneas 
and  care  of  God,  whose  gracious  providence  has  prospered  us  on  our 
way.  I  tJiought  of  beloved  ones  at  home,  and  vainly  wished  to  look 
in  upon  them,  that  I  might  see  how  they  if  ere,  and  tell  them  of  my 
safety. 

While  indulging  in  such  thoughts,  and  hoping  to  have  got  ashore  in 
time  for  m'omii^  worship,  a  small  steamer  came  along  side,  and  hiv- 
ing taken  off  tiie  mails  and  Lieut.  Scriven,  the  admiralty  agent,  put  on 
tlie  ^^  Europa^'  tiiree  custom*house  officers.  These  dignitaries  brought 
their  boards  and  benches,  scales  and  other  paraphernalia,  with  them. 
They  notified  us  that  we  must  have  our  trunks  examined,  after  whidi 
we  should  be  passed  aboard  the  steamer  and  landed.  Accordii^j 
everything  was  bustle — servants  carrying  up  trunks  and  arrangiiig 
them  on  deck,  and  passengers  all  busy  to  prepare  for  their  being  exam- 
ined.. Hie  passage  on  one  side  of  the  vessel,  from  the  companion  way 
of  the  cabin  to  the  place  of  debarking  on  the  side  of  the  dhip,  was 
soon  blocked  up  by  a  fence  erected  by  Queen  Victoria's  revenue  col- 
lectors. In  due  season  each  passenger's  name  was  called  in  the  order 
of  the  number  of  his  berth,  when  he  and  his  trunks  wei  e  marshaled 
for  examination.  The  first  one  or  two  were  severely  scrutinized.  A 
gentleman  from  Jamaica — a  Scotchman,  the  gentleman  who  had 
recently  drawn,  by  lottery,  a  prize  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollarSi 


14  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 

and  waa  returning  to  his  native  land  on  a  visit  with  his  wife  and  diil- 
dren,  and  others  in  his  care — had  some  thirty  trunks  and  packaged. 
The  scrutiny  was  chiefly  for  segars  and  hooks.  He  had  to  pay  heavily 
for  a  quantity  of  the  former,  all  over  half  a  pound  being  charged  duty 
at  the  rate  of  nine  shilluDigs  and  sixpence  per  pound.  A  number  of 
Harper's  magazine  was  confiscated.  His  plate'  was  also  seized,  and  he 
had  to  give  bonds  and  let  it  go  to  London,  where  he  must  make  his  . 
representations,  pay  duties,  and  get  it  released.  My  number  being 
fifty,  it  was  some  time  before  I  had  to  appear.  When  called,  I  unlocked 
my  trunk  at  the  direction  of  the  officers,  who  had  it  paraded  on  a 
bench.  Three  subordinates  and  one  overseer  were  at  work  inspecting. 
Hie  latter  put  me  in  mind  of  Dickens'  '^Deportment  Gentleman," 
described  in  a  late  number  of  the  Bleak  House.  When  asked  if  I  had 
any  contraband  articles  in  my  trunk,  I  replied  that  I  believed  not,  and 
opened -my  trunk  for  their  inspection.  "Any  sealed  letters."  I  replied 
I  had  none.  While  looking  over  my  books,  they  seized  OUendorTa 
Italian  grammar,  printed  and  published  in  New  York,  alleging  that  its 
redemption  would  be  an  invasion  of  the  copy-right — ^no  redemption 
for  it  was  allowed.  All  else  passed.  The  official  eagerly  seized  one 
or  two  artides  of  medicine,  and  a  couple  of  small  boxes  covered  with 
yellow  paper,  asking  if  they  were  watches.  On  hearing  that  they 
were  medicines,  ^c,  he  dropped  his  prize,  felt  in  the  top  of  my  trunk 
a  litde,  and  passing  it  with  the  stamp  attached^  I  was  ordered  to  take 
my  departure.  On  descending  into  the  boat  '^  along  side,^  another 
official  stood  there  to  examine  the  overcoat  pockets.  On  being  asked 
whether  mine  contained  anything  contraband,  I  replied  that  I  believed 
not,  not  knowing  exactly  what  they  did  contain,  but  he  mmht  examine 
for  himself.  He  accordingly  felt  the  pockets,  but  did  not  turn  out 
their  contents.  I  supposed  they  contained  newspapers  only,  but  on 
getting  to  my  hotel,  found  in  one  of  thei^  the  same  (August)  number 
of  Harper,  which  had  been  confiscated  for  Mr.  Orr.  On  reaching 
riiore  our  ba^age  was  taken  charge  of  by  a  porter,  who  delivered  it 
to  the  driver  of  what  they  called  a  "  van,"  belonging  to  the  hotel  we 
named.  The  Adelphi  was  that  generally  selected  by  the  passengers. 
We  were  told  all  would  be  safe,  and  directed  to  take  seats  in  an  omni- 
bus awaiting  us  on  the  street  at  the  head  of  St.  Greorge's  pier.  The 
assurances  were  all  confided  in  and  fully  verified,  and  at  about  eleven 
in  the  forenoon  we  were  quartered  in  our  hotel.  The  room  assigned 
me  was  a  small  one,  with  one  window,  two  beds,  low  ceilings,  and  up 
tiiree  pair  of  stairs.  Upon  complaining  about  it,  we  were  told  it  was 
the  '^Assizea,"  and  the  Canceller's  court  was  in  session,  and  the  house 
being  full  there  were  but  few  rooms  to  spare, — so  we  had  to  make  tha 


HOTEL  IN  UVBBPOOL.  16 


best  of  it    This  hotel,  though  much  lauded  and  resorted  to  also  by 
Americans,  is  fiir  froni  being  a  pleasant  or  even  a  oonofortable  abode, 
and  contrasts  yerj  disadvantageoualj  with  those  in  the  United  States. 
Ihe  entries  on  the  lower  floor  are  all  crowded  with  trunks  at  one  end, 
and  filled  up  with  ofiSoes  at  the  other,    lliere  is  not  a  seat  to  sit  down 
TSfODij  and  the  only  room  into  which  a  person  can  withdraw,  (unless  he 
*  "visitB  his  own  private  parlor),  is  the  eating  room  filled  with  tables  of 
dimeofflonsi  for  the  accommodation  of  from  one  to  six  or  eight  per- 
sons.   The  eating  saloon  ip  immediately  on  the  leil  hand  as  you  enter 
the  house  firom  l^e  front  of  Ranleigh  Place.    It  is  nearly  always  ooou- 
{ded  with  some  hungry  visitants,  like  the  refectories  in  New  York, 
coming  and  going  continuaUy ;  for,  from  the  time  breakfast  ends  with 
some,  the  hours  ranging  from  nine  till  twelve,  not  more  than  an  hour 
or  so  intervenes,  till  others  want  their  dinner,  which  continues  till 
ae?en  o'clock  and  after,  and  supper  from  nine  till  midnight    The  wait- 
ing Lb  not  prompt  when  there  are  several  tables  \x>  be  served.    Each 
person,  if  alcme,  or  each  separate  party,  has  to  call  for  their  meal,  and 
designate  of  the  soups  and  fish,  and  joints  or  meats,  and  fowls  and 
tarts— the  dishes  they  will  have,  which,  after  waiting  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  minutes,  are  served  up  in  course—different  courses  being  pro- 
vided at  di£ferent  hours.    I  was  surprised  to  see  the  quantity  of  wine, 
ale  and  porter  that  was  drank.    There  was  scarcely  any  one  who  did 
Jiot  call  fcr  strong  wines,  of  which  sherry  seemed  to  be  the  favorite, 
and  used  plentifully,  never  less  ihan  a  bottle  being  called  fbr,  and  some 
ordered  sherry,  champagne,  and  port,  all  tc^ether.    We  practiced 
iqpon  our  American  principles  of  temperance,  and,  after  theiirst  day, 
partook  our  meals  alone.    For  several  hours  on  the  Sabbath  I  remained 
in  my  room,  and  found  when  I  came  down,  that  the  passengers  of  the 
"Enropa^  had  arranged  it  to  have  a  ''table  dliote,'*  for  a  superb  din* 
ner  expressly  prepared.    The  room,  however,  was  not  large  enough 
to  admit  the  ladies,  and  they  were  served  in  one  adjoining.     Wine- 
drinking  guests^  by  such  arrangements,  tax  the  friends  of  temperance 
pretty  dearly,  when,  as  in  our  case,  ignorant  of  the  usages.    English 
cooking  is  good,  and  the  supply  abundant ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
chief  thought  and  care  are  for  eating  and  drinking,  regardless  ahhoat 
of  every  thing  else.    The  expenses  of  living  here  are  high,  footing  up 
rapidly  by  reason  of  every  thing  being  separately  charged ;  bed  2s  6d 
per  night ;  a  very  moderate  breakfiist,  28  6d ;  lunch  and  dinner,  8s  6d ; 
tea,  Is  6d,  and  supper,  28  6d — 55  cents,  77  cents,  88  cents,*  with  ser- 
vants^ wages  added ;   making,  altogether,  about  18.50  per  day.    It 
struck  me  with  surprise  to  see  a  fine  looking  female  keeping  Ihe  books 
of  the  hotel  and  assigning  the  rooms  for  lodgings.     Female  waiters 


1«  NOTES  OF  FORETGN  TRAVEL. 


also  attend  upon  the  chambers,  and  do  the  errands  in  answer  to  tiie 
bell. 

In  the  evening,  Dr,  Cook  and  myself  took  a  carriage  and  rode  to 
hear  Dr.  Hugh  McNeille  preach  in  St.  Paul's  church,  which  is  on  die 
Aigburth  road,  more  than  a  mile  distant.  I  was  very  much  pleased 
with  his  discourse,  and  was  rejoiced  to  see  so  large  and  serious-like 
looking  an  audience,  attentively  listening  to  the  gospel  preached  wifh 
great  plainness  and  force.  He  read  the  Scriptures  admirably,  but  left 
the  reading  of  prayers  to  the  curate,  prayed  extemporaneously  before 
commencing  his  discourse,  and  after  he  had  concluded  it  There  was 
no  singing  at  the  close.  All  the  congregation  joined  in  the  chanting  of 
the  Psalter.  The  house,  though  very  large,  was  filled ;  benches,  in 
wide  spaces,  were  occupied  by  plainer  looking  people,  •  who  had  their 
prayer  books  and  their  bibles,  and  accompanied  the  reading  of  the  ser- 
vice ;  some  silently,  some  aloud.  Many  of  them  were  young  men, 
and  not  a  few  young  women  and  children.  The  congregation  generally 
appeared  to  be  of  the  middling  and  lower  class  of  society.  Hm 
church  is  of  the  Gothic  style  of  architecture,  consisting  of  a  simple 
nave  with  choir  at  the  end  of  it — ^the  pulpit  standing  out  in  front  of 
the  chancel,  and  on  a  line  with  the  transept.  I  observed  no  attempt , 
at  the  imitation  of  an  altar,  but  only^a  simple  table  for  the  communiofi. 
Hie  transept  has  galleries  on  each  side  of  the  pulpit,  and  so  conveifr 
ently  situated  as  to  be  fully  in  view  of  the  pulpit,  but  not  of  the  can- 
gregation  in  the  nave,  the  fronts  being  even  with  the  walls  of  the  hi- 
ter. 

The  twilight  here  is  long,  and  the  services,  which  were  commenced 
by  daylight,  were  concluded  by  the  aid  of  gas-light,  gradually  increased 
as  the  d^kness  approached. 

The  church  stands  on  the  end  of  an  extensive  and  beautiful  park, 
near  to  ^l^ch  is  the  rector's  house.    The  grounds  around  are   taste- , 
fully  laid  out,  and  adorned  with  shrubbery  and  grass,  walks  and  flow 
ers ;  tbe  ivy  spreads  itself  thickly  abroad  in  places  over  the  sides  of 
the  building.     We  entered  at  the  door  of  one  of  the  transepts,  and 
were  immediately  met  (the  evening  service  had  commenced)  by  a  xnaa 
in  a  large  flowing  worsted  black  gown,  whoy  in  connection  with  another 
similarly  dad,  on  the  opposite  side,  during  the  whole  time  before  tha 
oqmmencement  of  (he  discourse,  was  looking  out  and  walking  around 
to  discern  vacant  seats,  and  escort  strangers  to  them.     Our  position 
was  assigned  us  near  tbe  reading  desk,  in  front  of  the  pulpit.    Sitting 
on  the  left  hand  of  the  speaker,  and  near  to  him,  we  had  a  fair  oppor- 
tunity both  to  hear  his  voice  and  see  his  countenance.    The  organ^  at 
•the  end  of  the  nave  and  opposite  the  pulpit,  was  played  softly  and 


DIS00nB8B,--8T.  MART'S  CHURCH.  If 

■weedy,  without  interludes  and  symphonies.  The  yoioes  of  fiie  choir, 
while  perfectly  ■  audible,  did  not  sound  loudly  above  those  of  the  con* 
gregation.  At  the  close  of  the  services,  when  the  congregation  rom 
to  leave  the  house,  the  organ  did  not  burst  loudly  f<yth  with  tibunder* 
ing  peals,  but  commenced  softly  and  tenderly,  gradually  swelling  into 
deep  and  solemn  tones.  Tlie  hymn  bein^  first  announced,  while  tha 
people  were  turning  to  it  in  the  books,  the  organ  played  the  tune. 
After  that,  the  hymn  was  read,  and  thereupon  the  organ  and  choir  coin- 
menced,  and  the  congregation  generally  united  in  the  singing.  His 
discourse  was  from  Rom.  xiii.  7 :  '*  Honor  to  whom  honor,''  &c  It 
was  a  plain,  well  digested,  practical  enforcement  of  duty,  after  a  brief 
explanation  of  the  nature  of  the  honor  required,  well  calculated  to  do 
good,  teaching  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  and  betraying  an  anxiety  to 
instruct  as  well  as  to  affect  Th^re  were  conciseness  of  thought  and 
diction,  precision  of  language,  gracefulness  of  manner,  nothing  affected 
or  offensive,  free  Mm  egotistical  vanity.  As  a  specimen  of  elocution, 
his  delivery,  in  respect  of  voice,  was  melodious  and  powerful,  and  of 
natural  variations  of  tone  adapted  to  the  varying  sentiment  and  feel> 
ing,  calculated  admirably  to  hold  the  attention  of  the  hearers. 


CHAPTER  IL 

Birkenheadf  Ue  old  Ahby^  its  St  Mary's  Ckurchj  its  rapid  growth  andfistureproepeckf 
— Chester^  0$  Cafhedral  and  its  doad  King, — Liverpool,  iia  rise  and  the  cause  cfU^ 
Us  PHbiUc  Building  and  Charitable  InstUuHans,  its  Zhcks  and  Commercial  grea^ 
nesSf  its  Gridiron^  and  Observatory^ — Progress  towards  Scottand^'^Iron  Foandarim^ 
^-AgricuUarai  Scenes. 

AcovBT  23 — ^Afier  looking  round  some  of  the  prindpal  streets  im 
Liverpool,  I  crossed  to  Birkenhead,  a  flourishing  town  on  the  opposite 
aide  of  the  Mersey,  where  I  visited  St.  Mary's  Church,  and  the  ruins 
of  the  old  Abbey  adjoining,  now  carefully  preserved  in  the  parts  that 
remain,  and  which  are  dosed,  being  attadied  to  the  end  of  tHe 
Kector's  house.  His  servant  man,  for  a  small  pecuniary  oomptitt> 
satlon,  produced  the  written  history  of  the  place  in  the  possession  of 
the  Rector's  family,  and  gave  us  all  the  information  he  himself  possessed, 
and  led  us  through  the  grounds,  expressing  his  pleasure  in  waiting  <a 
Americans.  The  hall  is  the  chief  part  remaining,  in  which  are  fftow^ 
ing  a  beedi  and  other  very.large  trees  more  than  two  centuries  old. 
Itwas  founded  a.  n.  1190,  and  has  bera  in  mins  for  800  years.  To 
te  east  side  of  the  hall  is  the  crypt  whicli  is  covered  by  the  Rector's 
garden,  and  part  of  it  was  converted  into  a  stable  for  his  horse  sni 
eow.    Hie  court  space  or  quadrangle  is  about  70  feet,  ontheeastside 


»  H0TH9  or  lORMGH  TRATBU 


of  wluch  stands  the  Oispter  House,  now  used,  for  a  Sabbath  sdbool, 
Ifae  lower  story  for  boys  and  the  upper  for  girls.  Its  ardies  are  elliptical 
itfid  one  assumes  tbe  diape  of  a  borse  sboe.  In  tbe  lower  part  are  tbe- 
annCMrial  bearings  ^tbe  fiunily  of  Price. 

St  Mary's  Qiurdi  b  a  bandsome  straeture  in  tbe  gotbic  style  of 
aiddtecture.  Its  tower  contains  a  cfaimeof  six^ls,and  its  lofty  spire 
CQBlribtttes  mucb  to  tbe  picturesque  aspect  of  tbe  town.  It  is  one  of 
tbe  objects  tbat  arrest  and  interest  tbe  attention  as  you  cross  tbe  river. 
ne  building  is  about  tbirty  years  old,  was  erected  by  F.  R  Price, 
Esq.,  the  Lord  of  tbe  Manor,  and  has  been  enlaiged  by  tbe  addition  of 
two  transepts. 

Hie  town  of  Birkenbead  bas  advanoed  witb  a  n^>idity  fiv  eieeeding 
tbttt  of  laverpooL  In  181B,  it  contained  but  six  dwellings,  and  about 
tdHy  inbabitants.  Sudi  bas  been  iti  rapid  increase  since,  tbat  now  it 
is  tbooj^t  tbe  day  is  not  fiur  distant  when  it  will  number  100|000. 
His  din  of  tbe  hammer,  tbe  saw,  tbe  diisel  and  tbenrowd,  resounds 
in  tbe  ear  at  ev^y  turn.  Extensive  docks  are  projected  tbat  will  sur* 
those  of  Liverpool  itself. 

••  fbe  VHUffa  of  tat  y«Mntoy  If  nitea 
Tobeapopnlontcltyl  arichmMtl 
▲  «7>^iB't  center,  mS  Hi  fcniting 


From  Birkenhead  we  rode  to  Chester  to  see  its  ancient  Oatbedral. 
Happdiing  to  be  there  at  the  time  of  tbe  afternoon  daily  service,  which 
is  observed  in  all  tbe  Cathedral  churches,  we  were  udliered  into  the 
choir,  wb69«  we  were  shown  to  seats  in  tbe  stalls,  ranging  along  the 
w^l  and  immediately  adjoining  one  of  tbe  officiating  priests  or  deacons. 
Whether  we  took  our  seats  there  by  mistake  or  not,  we  were  not 
molested,  but  I  observed  one  of  the  surplieed  gentlemen  smile,  not- 
withstanding his  devotions,  as  he  looked  toward  us,  and  the  one  tbat 
lead,  cast  his  eyes  askance  during  the  responses,  to  catch  a  view  of 
the  strangers.  Hie  Cathedral  is  in  a  process  of  repair,  but  the  chief 
tokens  of  individual  generosity  of  late,  have  been  inTrestoring  tbe 
sta&ied  windows.  The  crypt  of  this  building  is  very  ancient^  and  pver 
it  is  the  garden  also,  as  at  Birkenhead.  It  does  not  seem  tobave  been 
cleared  out,  but  there  is  a  mass  of  earth  and  rubbish  quito  thick  over* 
liq^ing  the  fk)or.  In  the  south  usle  of  tbe  choir  are  several  andent 
tomU  and  entablatures,  and  a  dark  stone  sarcophagus  and  tombs  of 
antiqinty,  said  to  contain  tbe  remains  of  ac^ancaent  Danish  or  Grerman 
Kng,  wlddh  were  sent  over  for  preservation  against  the  maraudings  of 
A«  barbarous  tribes  that  were  waging  war  against  his  country.  How 
vaili  Mid  worthless  seemed  to  be  tbe  pomp  in  which  poor  mortals  wish 
Mi  altanpt  that  their  femuns  shall  lie  t 


LIYEBPOC^^  If^ 


AoousT  24. — ^Took  a  ride  to-day  around  Liverpool,  and  got  a  sigfait 
of  some  of  the  splendid  abodes  of  the  titled  nobility  and  merchant 
princes  whidi  stretch  alcoig  the  fine  high  grounds,  or  inland  culminating 
of  the  hill  ov  the  slope  of  which  Liverpool  is  built.  The  history  of  the 
rise  and  prosperity  of  Liverpool  more  resembles  that  of  many  of  our 
American  commercial  centres,  thsn  any  other  in  England.  Since  the 
beginning  of  the  18th  century,  it  has  increased  its  population  from  five 
to  upwards  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  The  origin  of  its  name 
b  involved  in  the  obscurity  of  &ble,  but  from  a  small  fishing  town,  it 
has  risen  to  a  greater  importance  than  any  other  town,  next  to  Lon* 
don,  in  the  kingdom*  It  is  not  yet  one  century  since  the  first  stsge  coach 
began  to  run,  and  that  only  once  a  week  between  London  and  LiverpooL 
Carriages,  were  then,  very  rare,  and  somewhat  afier  the  style  of  the  Irish 
in  perpetrating  "  bulls,''  it  is  gravely  rdated  that  there  was  but  one  ^^n- 
IkmarCs  in  all  the  town,  and  UuU  was  kept  by  a  lady  of  the  name  of  Qay- 
ton.  The  African  slave  trade,  the  warehouse  system,  the  East  India 
Company's  monopoly,  are  said  to  be  amoi^  the  principal  causes  of  its 
prosperity. 

It  lies  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Mersey,  in  latitude  53  d^.  24  min. 
North,  and  2  deg.  59  min.  West  longtitude  of  Greenwich.  Its  length 
is  about  two  and  a  half  miles,  and  its  "breadth  one  and  three  quarters. 
It  contunS  many  very  costly  and  splendid  buildings,  as  the  Ejichange, 
the  Town  Hall,  .the  Railway  Station,  St  John's.  Market,  4ic,  but  the 
4ty  generally  has  a  dirty  disagreeable  aspect  Many  of  its  streets 
throng  with  Irish  and  other  laborers  going  and  returning- from  various 
manufiictories  and  places  of  employment,  whose  appearance  offends 
the  eye  of  an  American,  accustomed,  >  as  we  are  to  Witness  a  more 
cleanly  and  decent  apparal  generally  worn  by  our  diligent  and  thrifty 
operatives  and  mechanics.  There  is  a  large  amount  i»f  religion  in  this 
city,  and  its  educational  and  benovolent  institutions  are  numerous  and 
of  great  value.  The  Colleges,  and  Mechanics'  Institution,  the  church 
and  sdiool  for  the  blind,  its  infirmary  and  lunatic  asylum,  aud  its 
botanical  and  zoological  gardens,  display,  advantageously^  the  public 
spirit  of  its  inhabitants.  Its  docks  now  form  the  most  striking 
feature  of  the, place.  They  are  uun)crous  and  costly,  constructed  of- 
stone  masonry,  in  connection  with  a  system  of  lockage,  by  means  of 
which  large  vessels  pass,  at  certain  times  of  the  tide,  from  the  channel 
of  the  river,  into  safe  quarters,  for  discharging  and  receiving  their  car* 
goes,  and  where  they  are  not  subjected  to  the  dangers  and  expense  ih^y 
wouM  be,  if  compelled  to  load  and  unload  in  the  stream,  whose  extreme 
variations  of  high  and  low  water  are  so  great.  The  docks  vary  In 
their  size,  and  present  an  array  of  shipping  quitch  amazing  to  laiidsrnen. 


HOTisd  OF  fOAnaK  TRAYKL 


lliat  called  the  Prinoe  dook  is  five  hundred  yards  long  and  two  hun- 
dred and  six  broad,  with  two  locks,  and  oorers  more  than  eleven  acres, 
fittieds  have  be^i  erected  along  each  side  for*  the  protection  of  mer- 
chandise. A  dwelling-house  at  one  end,  with  appropifttte  offices, 
affi>rds  accommodations  for  the  dock-masters.  From  this  dock  there 
is  a  passage  into  a  basiu,  at  the  southeast  comer  of  which  is  what  is 
called  the  Oridiron^  a  sort  of  platform  on  which  vessels  requiring  tn- 
fiing  repairs  can  be  placed  at  high  water,  and,  when  the  tide  recedes, 
the  necessary  examination,  &c,  can  be  made.  On  the  diagonal  coiner 
is  a  plain  structure  called  the  observatory,  which  serves  the  important 
use  of  determining  meridianal  time.  At  one  invariable^  moment  of 
each  day,  a  laige  ball  is  let  fall  from  the  top  of  a  mast,  the  descent  ^ 
whidi  can  be  noted  by  all  within  its  view.  It  is  let  fidl  precisely  at 
the  moment  of  one  o'clock  in  the  Royal  Observatory  at  Greenwich, 
which  difiers  from  that  of  Liverpool  by  the  amount  of  its  western  lon- 
gitude, being  twelve  minutes  within  a  smaU  portion  of  a  second.  Thus 
vessels  going  to  sea  are  enabled  to  regulate  their  time,  and  adjust  the 
errors  of  their  chronometers.  Different  docks  are  designated  by  the 
names  of  Wellington,  Victoria,  Trafalgar,  Clarence,  &c.  Although 
very  extensive,  they  are  not  found  sufficient  for  the  purpose  of  its  com- 
merce, and  preparations  are  made  for  the  construction  of  some  forty- 
four  acres  of  dockage  in  addition. 

Aiigusi  25^. .  Came  yesterday  fh)m  Liverpool  to  Glasgow,  by  the 
Liverpool  and  Manchester  Railroad,  as  &r  as  Preston  Junction,  then 
turned  north  and  passed  through  Wigan,  a  town  full  of  foundries  and 
tall  smoking  chimneys,  indicating  industry  in  the  manufiicture  of  iron 
in  various  forms.  The  road  runs  through  a  wide  valley,  formed  by 
high  ranges  of  hills  stretching  from  southwest  to  northeast,  and  the 
country  is  rolling.  The  morning  was  rainy  and  foggy,  but  about  half 
past  one  o'clock,  P.  M.,  it  cleared  up  delightfully,  and  the  sun  shone 
brighter  than  I  had  yet  seen  it  in  this  region  of  fogs  and  clouds.  Ttie 
ftrmers  were  in  the  midst  of  harvest ;  the  fields  were  filled  with  wheal 
and  oats,  beans,  potatoes,  and  tumeps,  showing  great  care  and  skill  in 
caltivation«  Passed  through  various  small  towns,  and  at  some  dis- 
tance firom  Kendal,  where  the  tourists  for  Lake  Windermere,  one  of 
the  fine  lakes  of  the  north,  branch  off.  Near  Preston  there  is  a  splen- 
did viaduct. 

Tn  heart  is  kept  whole,  rejuvenated,  by  bathing  in  the  sweet  influ- , 
enoes  of  home.     Outside,  the  rough  world^sea  tosses,  bleak  winds 
whistle :  home  is  the  KA  in  which  we  ride :  warm  it  #ell  with  all 
loving  care — ^feed  it^  heart-fires  with  ^nerous  fuel  of  tenderness.-^ 
Bm.  K  D.  EiicheU. 


LAND  OF  THE  PTRAMIDa  11 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


BT  WABBSK  ISHAH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

/ 

Alexandria' — Scenes  in  the  Harbor — On  Shore — Bible  Illustration 
Scene  at  the  Custom  House — First  Donkey  Ride — Imposing  Reception 
— Tested  as  a  Oentlenian  and  Found  Wanting — Outwitted  by  th4 
Donkey  Man, 

m 

A  rough  passage  of  four  days,  from  Malta,  brought  us  to  the  land 
of  the  Pharaohs.  Coming  to  anchor  in  tho  roads  of  Alexandria,  two  milai 
distant  from  the  shore, we  were  soon  boarded  by  half-naked  Egyptians,  in 
quest  of  passengers  and  luggage,  fiercely  clambering  up  the  sides  of  the 
steamer,  as  though  they  were  g<  >mg  to  take  us  by  storm.  But  thej 
were  promptly  met  and  beaten  back  with  clubs,  and,  in  the  encounter, 
cn^poor  fellow  was  pitched  headlong  into  the  sea.  I  looked  anxiously 
after  him,  and  began  to  scream  for  help,  but  was  soon  cured  of  that, 
for  the  rest  were  all  laughing  at  the  sport,  and,  sure  enough,  he  soon 
rose  to  the  sur&ce,  and  sprang  into  his  boat,  withcrut  seeming  to  have 
been  at  all  disturbed.  And  now  they  all  seated  themselves  serenely 
in  their  places,  each  quietly  waiting  his  turn. 

Rowed  to  the  shore,  we  made  our  way  through  crowds  of  Egyptain 
Arabs,  men,  women  and  children,  loading  thoir  camels  and  donkeys 
with  skins  of  water  from  the  the  sea.  Thus,  scarcely  had  I  set  foot 
upon  the  shore,  when  ^  was  made  to  feel,  that  I  was  in  one  of  the 
**  Lands  of  the  Bible."  One  of  the  skins  they  were  filling,  being  old, 
and  having  l>een  out  of  use  for  some  time,  was  dry  and  hard,  and, 
upon  being  distended  with  water,  burst,  spilling  its  contents  upon  the 
ground.  How  much  more  liable,  thought  1,  would  one  of  these-**  old 
bottles"  be  to  "burst,"  if  they  were  filled  with  "new  wine"  to  undergo 
the  process  of  fermentation  l 

Through  this  crowd  we  wt^re  hurried  on  to  the  custom  house.  The 
ibnnalities  of  inspection  were  soon  dispatched,  when  my  luggage  was 
laid  hold  of  by  as  many  Arab  porters  as  could  gather  around  it,  in  full 
fight,  upon  which,  the  inspector,  (a  Turk  of  course),  seized  a^club,  and 


tt  LAND  OP  THE  PYRAlflDa 

by  a  series  of  well-directed  blows,  knocking  one  this  way,  and  another 
that,  sucoeeied  in  putting  an  end  to  the  melee,  and  the  prize  wait 
left  alone,  with  a  ring  of  them  encircling  it,  having  the  fear  of  the  cud- 
gel before  their  eyes,  and  its  marks  upon  their  persons. 

This  deliverance  having  been  wrought  out  for  me,  I  selected  one  of 
their  number  to  take  my  lu^age  to  the  hotel,  and  from  another  I 
accepted  a  donkey  on  which  to  ride.  Having  mounted  the  little  crea- 
ture, if  mounting  it  could  be  called,  I  was  not  a  little  surprised,  that  he 
should  start  off  with  me  so  nimbly,  and  apparently  in  a  glee,  educated 
as  \  had  been  to  regard  the  ass  a  very  stupid  animal.  I  was  not  long 
however,  in  learning  the  secret,  for,  hearing  strange  noises  rear-ward,. 
I  soon  discovered,  that  the  poor  creature  was  only  making  an  effort  to 
get  his  posteriors  out  of  reach  of  a  huge  shillalah,  which  his  master, 
who  was  in  full  chase,  bore  in  his  right  hand. 

Onward  he  flew,  winding  this  way  and  that,  according  to  his  own 
fiincy,  through  narrow,  dirty  streets,  strewed,  on  either  hand,with  frag- 
ments of  ancient  magnificence,  dodging  here  and  there  to  avoid  the 
camels,  and  compelling  me  to  do  the  same,  or  be  brushed  off  by  their 
projecting  loads,  and  anon  making  his  wny  right  through  crowds  of  pco- 
ple,without  slackening  his  speed,leaving  a  ti-iick  soniowhat  in  the  shape  of 
the  letter  S,  (having  dodged  through  the  open  places),  and  finally,  at 
the  end  of  a  mile,  bringing  me  up  safe  at  the  hotel — ^with  his  master 
after  him.  There  being  a  slight  depression  where  he  stood,  witb  the 
ground  somewhat  elevated  upon  eac^h  side,  1  stood  on  tiptoe,  and  h» 
passed  out  from  under  me,  leaving  me  unhorsed. 

And  who  are  these,  decked  in  gaudy  costume,  and  moving  about 
with  an  air  of  consequence  surpassing  that  of  a  general  of  an  army  1 
Are  they  the  Pachas,  the  dignitaries  of  the  land,  assembled  to  welcome 
me  to  Egypt  ]  As  they  approached,  I  felt  as  though  perhaps  I  ought 
to  be  struck  with  awe.  At  length  one  of  them,  drawing  near,  opened 
bis  mouth  and  spake.  His  words  were  in  broken  English.  He  con- 
gratulated me  on  my  safe  arrival  in  the  country,  proffered  his  kind 
offices  to  me  as  a  stranger  just  arrived  in  Egypt,  and  liable  to  be 
Imposed  upon,  assuring  me  that  he  would  be  my  friend,  and  winding 
up  with  an  offer  to  take  me  up  the  Nile. 

7^e  me  up  the  Nile  !  What  e^ould  that  mean  ?  Was  it  one  of  the 
princes  of  the  land,  who  was  meditating  so  signal  an  honor  ?  By  thi» 
time,  however,  the  others  had  (xnnv  up,  and  formed  a  ring  around  me, 
each  one  contending  that  he  was  the  best  man,  and  would  carry  me 
dieaper  and  safer  than  any  of  the  rest.  The  romance  of  the  thing  waa 
all  spoiled  now,  being  reduced  to  a  mere  matter  of  dollars  and  centa- 
between  myself  and  an  Elgyptian  dragoman. 


NO  GENTLEMAN.  13 


For  how  much  f  said  I.  A  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  (1750)  to  the 
fynt  cataract,  said  one.  And  do  none  go  for  less  ?  Oh !  yes,  he  r^oin- 
ed,  putting  on  airs,  but  no  gentleman  ever  does.  Assuring  them  I  ww 
not  a  gentleman^  I  turned  upon  my  heel,  and,  as  I  directed  my  steps  to 
tiie  hotel,  the  bids  came  thick  and  fast  upon  my  ears,  dropping,  how- 
ever, a  peg  lower  at  every  bid. 

No  gentleman  ever  does!  Wonderful  is  the  talismanic. power  of 
these  words,  from  the'  mouth  of  an  E^ptian  dragoman,  u^on  most  of 
our  plain,  republican  travellers.  A  whip  of  scorpions  would  scarcely 
be  more  stinging,  while  to  be  called  a  gentleman  here,  seems  to  set  their 
heads  to  turning  round  like  a  top.  I  could  mention  instances  whieh 
verge  upon  the  ludicrous. 

Duly  to  appreciate  the  mysterious  influence,  however,  one  must  be 
&miliar  with  the  import  of  the  term  as  used  in  England,  and  reflect 
that  these  people  have  taken  their  lessons,  in  the  first  instance,  fh>m 
English  travellers.  Hiey  have  thus  learned  to  associate  the  high  breed* 
ing,  and  high  qualities  of  a  gentleman,  with  bags  of  gold,  and  theaa 
again  with  a  certain  style  of  outfit  and  expenditure,  and  to  fiill  below 
tins  standard,  is  to  sink  to  a  very  low  place  in  their  toteem.  It  does,  I 
eonless,  put  republican  virtue  to  a  rather  severe  test  to  be  thus  branded, 
and,  it  must  be  owned,  that,  not  a  few  of  our  people,  lest  they  should 
be  suspected  of  a  taunt  of  plebianism,  go  to  such  lengths  here  in  their 
expenditures,  as  to  leave  even  the  English  aristocrats  &r  in  the  back* 
ground* 

One  instance  of  spedal  note  occurs  to  me,  that  of  a  young  man,  who 
set  no  bounds  to  his  extravagance,  and  who  emphasized  his  contempt 
of  those  who  were  less  prodigal,  by  a  curl  of  4he  lip  and  a  toss  of  the 
head,  but  who,  upon  his  return  home,  found  lus  fiither  a  bankrupt,  and 
in  prison,  for  having  obtained,  upon  fiklse  pretences,  the  very  money  be 
had  spent — so  I  was  credibly  informed. 

And  yet,  I  have  met  a  Russian  prince  here,  traveling  in  disguise, 
whose  plain  dress  and  fare  subjected  him  to  neglect  and  contumely,  but 
who  '^laughed  in  his  sleeve.^'  And,  as  being  all  kings  in  America, 
does  it  not  become  us  to  throw  ourselves  equally  upon  our  dignity  % 

Ailer  all,  it  must  be  conceded,  that  a  certain  <{egree  of  conformity^ 
is  neoessary  to  the  ends  a  traveller  has  in  view,  and  it  is  matter  of 
expediency  to  yield  it,  to  a  certain  extent,  even  if  it  is  done  with  a 
protest,  fi>r  that  is  the  only  passport  which  will  avail  anything  with  the 
class  of  travellers  one  is  likely  to  fall  in  with. 

But  I  had  forgotten  the  donkey  man,  and  here  he  comes  yelling  out 
Ar  Ms  pay.  We  had  agreed  upon  the  price  before  leaving  the  custom 
boose,  but  he  refuses  to  take  it,  and  demands  double,  bawling  out  for 


LANBOFTBK  PTBAIODa 


Hao  as  to  be  beard  all  orertbe  public  sqaare.  Hie  cmmiiig  rascal  sees 
■nmbera  of  Europeans  and  Americans  sauntering  about^  and  his  object  is 
to  excite  their  attention,  and  thereby  shame  me  to  terms,  rightly  jndg- 
mg,  that  I  would  sooner  submit  to  the  extortion,  than  to  sudi  a  public 
AeoioDstnition  of  the  afiair.  Andso,  to  stop  the  fellow's  mouth  at  onoe 
I  pay  his  demand,  when  he  turns  round  and  very  cooly  laughs  in  my 


CHAPTBB  n. 

Wmderfid  MuBcnlar  iSb'ai^— il  Paradox,— Scene  ai  (he  Carnal  Baain.-'Ludiarm 
AUaigiemeiU,'— The  poor  Dondey's  UJe  itrEg^L—AU  Opprea&ed  and  aU  Opprett- 
WM  in  Ami, — ^^0  CnoML^  ytl  aULamgh  and  make  merry, — A  FlaX'Dremag  SomSf 
— A  peq^  ai  a  Modem  School 

]  was  on  my  way  to  the  canal  baan ;  to  my  right  was  a  vacant  lot, 
yAete  lay  a  pile  of  earth  which  was  in  process  of  removal.  Two 
aible-bodied  men  were  very  leisurely  sending  it  into  baskets.  Tbese 
ha^ets,  whidi  were  about  two  feet  long,  one  foot  wide,  and  half  a  foot 
dsepi,  when  tilled,  were  placed  upon  the  backs  of  little  boys  and  giris, 
a^f  or  ten  years  of  age,  extending  from  the  neck  to  the  hips^  being 
kept  in  their  places  by  a  strap  wluch  passed  around  the  forehead ;  and 
with  their  heads  bowed  toward  the  centre  of  the  earth,  (to  pre- 
e  the  centre  of  gra\nty),  the  poor  creatures  reeled  along  under  the 
harden  of  at  least  three  pecks  of  the  world.  And  they  were  kept 
iMessantly  goii^  backwards  and  forwards  from  morning  till  night, 
wWe  die  men  at  the  hei^  were  half  the  time  standing  idle.  A  little 
r  on,  I  saw  childrea,  not  more  than  five  or  six  years  old,  carry- 
badLetB  of  earth  up  a  steep  plank  out  of  a  cellar,  while  the  easier 
of  fillii^  them  was  performed  by  an  athletic  man  at  the  bottom. 
But  1  had  not  proceeded  &r  before  I  had  evidence  enough,,  that  the 
ttQ  grown  men  tJiemselvcs  were  subjecti^l  to  equal  hardships  by  diose 
who  had  them  equally  in  their  power.  Four  men  were  carrying  a 
atone  across  the  common,  which  I  jiulged  would  weigh  not  hr  from  a 
km,  die  two  large,  seasoned  bearers,  fri^m  which  it  was  suspended,  bend- 
though  they  would  break. 
Wondering  at  such  prodigies  of  strength,  I  mond<med  the  circum- 
to  die  agent  of  the  English  Tranut  Company,  who  remarked, 
it  was  noting  very  uncommon,  and  added,  that,  but  a  day  or  two 
before,  a  man  brought  a  box  upon  his  back  a  ci^nsiderable  distance  to 
dbe  Company's  warehouse^  the  weight  of  which  he  found  to  be  four 
kiMli  1  d  and  seventy-five  pounds,  for  which  service  .he  aoo^ted  two 
IS  a  very  liberal  reward. 


LUBICB0U8  8CBNB.  15 


Pandoxea,  trvly  !*  Hist  a  people  so  phyaicallj  atUetio  and  power- 
lb],  should  be  so  morally  imbecile  as  to  submit  to  tbe  cruel  treatmeni 
I  bave  described,  lying  passively  down  under  the  blows  of  the  oppres- 
sor,  and  crying  for  mercy  with  the  helplessness  of  a  duld !  And  then 
again,  how  is  this  prodigious  muscular  power,  to  be  reooncOed  with 
the  &ct,  that  it  has  been  developed  under  what  is  commonly  regarded 
as  an  enervating  dimate,  and  upon  very  spare  diet,  mostly  vegetable*- 
or  does  this  last  consideration  furnish,  to  some  extent,  a  key  to  the 
mystery? 

And  here  is  the  canal  basin,  and  here  are  the  piles  of  boxes,  bags 
and  bales,  of  dates,  peas,  beans,  mai2e,  wheat,  cotUm,  flax,  die.,  &c., 
from4he  up  country,  thrown  promiscuously  on  shore,  and  mixed  up 
keher  ekeUer  with  men,  women  and  children,  camels,  mules,  donkeys 
and  dogs,  talking,  bawling,  yelling,  braying,  barking  and  howling. 

lliey  are  engaged  in  transpoi'^ng  the  above  articles  hence  a  short 
distance  to  the  harbor  cm  the  Mediterranean.  And  now  see  that  meek 
and  docile  creature,  that  *'  ship  of  the  desert,'^  the  eamel,  settling  upon 
his  haunches  to  receive  his  burden,  to  consist  of  five  bales  of  cotton, 
weighing  not  &r  from  half  a  ton.  By  the  aid  of  two  men,  one  lifling 
at  each  side,  he  is  able  to  rise,  and,  as  he  moves  slowly  along,  the  very 
picture  of  distress,  he  seems  to  say,  "  O,  pity  me !"  and  your  sympa- 
thies are  kindled  in  his  behalf.     Three  or  four  are  led  by  one  man. 

Next  come  the  donkeys.  These  little  creatures  are  driven  in  droves 
without  saddle  or  bridle,  with  a  huge  sack  each  (containing  seven 
bushels  of  wheat)  thrown  across  the  bare  back.  A  drove  of  twenty 
or  thirty  of  them  thus  loaded,  were  started  ofl^  by  a  single  driver 
seated  upon  a  mule,  in  the  dir€ttion  of  toe  harbor,  completely  block- 
ing up  the  narrow  way.  At  the  same  time,  I  observed  a  funeral  pro- 
cession advancing  to  meet  them,  and  Rooked  to  see  them  turn  aside  to 
let  the  donkeys  pass,  but  onward  they  came,  raising  louder  and  louder 
their  hideous  wul,  until  brought  to  a  full  stop  in  the  midst  of  the  ter- 
rified and  floundering  quadrupeds.  To  crown  the  scene,  the  asses  set 
to  braying,  in  sublime  chorus,  and  such  music  as  went  up  fiu)m  that 
oongr^ation,  is  not  oflen  heard  in  this  upper  world. 

Such  a  mixing  up  of  the  elements,  beastly  and  divine,  mortal  and 
immortal,  erect  and  prone,  few  mortal  eyes,  I  &ncy,  h«d  ever  seen 
before.  It  was  not  natural  affinity — ^it  was  a  mechanical  necessity,  a 
high-way  collision,  the  propelling  forces  being  the  lash  on  the  one 
hand,  and  that  blind  fiitalism,  which  is  so  characteristic  a  feature  of  the 
Moslem  fiuth,  on  the  other. 

After  a  long  struggle,  the  procession  emerged  from  its  thraldom,  and 
proceeded  on  their  way,  as  though  nothing  had  happened,  leaving  oiany 


16  LAND  01?  THE  PYRAMIDa 

■  ■  ■  '    ■  I  ■ 

of  their  long-eared  associates  prostrate  beneath  their  burdens,  and  ana- 
ble  to  stir. 

Saw  to  get  them  up,  was  a  question,  the  solution  of  which  turned 
out  to  be  the  richest  part  of  the  af&ir.  There  they  lay,  meekly  await^ 
ing  their  deliverance,  looking  up  evidently  in  a  state  of  humble  expeo- 
tancy.  And,  sure  enough,  forth  came  the  driver,  and  taking  his  por- 
tion directly  in  front  of  each  one  of  them  in  turn,  as  he  lay  helplesa 
ben^th  the  enormous  sack,  (the  ends  of  which  rested  upon  the  ground 
on  each  side  of  him),  seized  him  by  his  capacious  ears,  and  drew  him 
out  from  under  it^  when  the  miniature  beast  very  complacently  arose 
upon  his  feet.  Wit^  additional  help,  the  burden  was  replaced,  and 
they  moved  on  to  their  destination.  And,  no  sooner  are  th'^y  dis- 
burdened of  their  loads  at  the  harbor,  than  they  start,  at  the  crack  of 
the  driver's  whip^  and  scamper  away  back  again,  like  a  flock  of  sheep— 
and  he  after  them. 

As  I  turned  my  steps  to  return,  I  noticed  a  poor  little  donkey,  with 
.two  pieces  of  timber  lashed,  one  upon  each  side  of  him,  of  considera- 
ble size,  and  at  least  twenty-five  feet  long,  their  rear  ends  dragging 
upon  the  ground.  He  could  go  but  a  few  paces  without  stopping,  and 
was  only  kept  from  reeling  out  of  his  centre  of  gravity,  and  sinking 
beneath  his  burden,  by  the  hand  of  his  master,  which  rested  upon  hia 
shoulder  for  the  purpose. 

Passing  along,  I  observed  a  boy  beating  the  donkey  on  whidi  ha 
rode  most  cruelly  with  a  club,  apparently  for  the  luxury  it  afforded 
him.  To  my  special  gratification,  the  projecting  load  of  a  camel  inter- 
posed and  brushed  him  off;  Und  now,  fuming  with  rage^  he  fixed  hi^ 
teeth  in  the  animal's  nostrils  with  a  terrible  grip,  and  thus  holding  him 
&st|  smote  him  until  his  anger  was  appeased. 

Mounting  again,  he  had  scarcely  time  to  resume  the  application  of 
the  cudgel,  when  he  was  brushed  off  a  seoond  time  by  a  donkey  load 
of  wood.  Again  he  hung  like  a  viper  from  the  poor  animal's  snouts 
plying  the  cudgel  with  renewed  vigor,  as  though  he  would  reduce  him 
to  a  jelly.  And,  to  crown  the  scene,  he  narrowly  escaped  being  bruslmi 
off  a  third  time,  and  I  was  heartily  glad  of  it,  by  this  time,  for  the 
poor  donkey's  sake. 

A  little  Airther  on,  I  met  a  man  leading  a  live  donkey,  with  a  dead 
one  lying  across  his  back. 

The  donkey  is  a  little  creature,  but  it  makes  a  large  figure  in  Egypt^ 
which  may  almost  be  said  to  stand  upon  the  legs  of  the  donkey  tad 
the  eamel.  It  loomB  up  also  ineacred  story.  Balaam  wavhcAiored 
as  the  only  human  being  whom  it  ever  condescended  to  addrese,  and 


AKOMALY  OP  CHARACTER.  « 

the  Saviour  of  the  world  lost  none  of  his  dignity,  entering  Jerusalem 
"  meek  and  lowly,  riding  upon  an  ass." 

And  thus  it  is,  that  those  who  are  the  most  oppressed,  are  them» , 
selves  the  greatest  oppressors  in  turn,  all  the  world  over,  as  though  it 
were  a  oordial  to  the  crushed  spirit,  to  avenge  itself  upon  somethingi 
tkongh  it  be  but  the  poor  beast. 

But,  with  all  their  oppressions,  kicked,  cuffed  and  beaten  as  they  are, 
I  have  never  seen  more  vivacity  and  buoyancy  of  spirit  among  anj 
people.  The  most  down-trodden  of  them  all,  are  far  more  sprightly 
and  mirthfid,  than  their  full-fed  and  burly  oppressors.  In  a  reoent 
excursion,  I  met  with  an  instance  which  amazed  me.  A  full  grown 
young  man  was  being  beaten  by  a  Frank,  (European)  apparently  for  no 
oause,  and,  as  he  was  retreating  backwards  before  the  blows,  crying 
md  bawling  like  a  child,  he  stumbled  and  fell,  and  there  he  lay  roaring 
most  piteously  under  the  inflictions  of  the  cudgel,  until  it  pleased  hia 
assailant  to  desist,  when  he  hopped  up,  brushed  away  his  tears  widi 
his  sleeve,  joined  in  a  merry  laugh,  and  appeared  to  be  brimful  of 
enjoyment. 

These  people  are  perfect  non-resistants,  and  "  no  government^  men, 
that  is,  none  except  what  is  inflicted  upon  them.  When  smitten  on 
tJieone  cheek,  they  not  only  turn  the  other,  but  resign  themselves 
bodily  to  the  scourge.  But  this,  so  far  from  interfering  with,  onlj 
seems  to  enhanoe  their  enjoyment,  the  law  of  contrast  operating  to 
make  them  quite  jubilant  when  it  is  over  with. 

Though  robbed  of  their  earnings,  they  are  always  merry  at  their 
tasks.  In  the  excursion  above  alluded  to,  as  I  was  passing  along  a 
retired  way,  I  heard  what  seemed  the  voice  bf  mirth,  and  directing  my 
steps  to  the  building  whence  it  proceeded,  I  looked  in  at  the  open  door, 
and,  behold;  there  sat  squat  all  around  the  interior  of  the  buildingi 
mexkj  women  and  children,  busily  engaged  in  dressing  flax  ;  and,  as  thej 
wrought,  they  were  making  merry  over  the  tales  which  each,  in  tum^ 
had  to  tell.  As  I  presented  myself,  they  looked  up  and  laughed,  and« 
ohflerving  my  curiosity,  one  of  them  asked  if  I  had  never  seen  peopk 
dress  flax  before,  and  if  we  had  no  flax  in  my  country.  I  replied  in  tho 
affirmative),  (through  my  guide)  and  undertook  to  show  them  how  &st 
people  dress  flax — ^at  which  they  laughed  right  heartily,  and  said  tlieir 
way  was  a  great  deal  the  best.  And  yet  it  was  so  primitive,  that  it  wat 
probably  the  first  method  ever  thought  of  by  the  sons  of  men,  consiflU 
ing  simply  in  taking  a  handful  of  flax  in  one  hand,  beating  it  with  a 
round  stick  held  in  the  other,  and  alternately  shaking  and  cornb^ 
ing  it. 

And  yet,  these  light-hearted  aud  funny  beings,  so  happy  at  tlMtr 


/ 

4 


LAND  OF  THB  PTRAIODa. 


[,  were  pounded  and  robbed  at  the  pleasure  of  their  oppreasKWS, 
leeeiying  only  the  nominal  sum  of  two  or  three  piasters,  (eight  to 
tvelve  oenta,)  for  toiling  the  liye-long  day,  a  hu^e  portion  of  whidi 
yittanoe  is  wrenched  ifrom  them  by  the  Government. 

Passing  along,  my  attention  was  arrested  by  a  jargon  of  voices  pro- 
ceeding from  a  hut  over  the  way.  My  curiosity  was  again  on  tiptoe, 
and  approaching  the  interesting  locality,  I  screwed  my  courage  up^ 
tlid  looked  in — it  was  a  Moslem  School.  There  sat  teacher  and  scho- 
lira,  the  former  squat  upon  a  divan,  and  the  latter  upon  benches,  with 
Slile  bits  of  boards  in  their  hands,  on  which  were  inscribed  as  many 
passages  of  the  Koran,  each  one  repeating  his  own  passage  at  the  top  of 
his  voice,  not  in  concert  with  the  others,  but  "  on  his  own  hook,"  there 
being  as  many  separate,  independant  rehearsals,  as  there  were  scholars, 
and  all  rocking  their  bodies  backwards  and  forwards  incessantly.  The 
looking  notion,  I  was  told,  was  to  assist  the  memory.  It  is  practised 
hj  adults  in  reading  from  a  book.  The  body  bends  forward  to  an  angle 
of  about  forty-five  degrees,  and  back  to  its  upright  position,  hj 
aft  easy  swing.  The  urchins  laughed  as  I  looked  in,  but  did  not  intermit 
Mkher  voice  or  motion. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

Mmryihing  Nho  and  Odd, — fkmny  looking  Goats^ — An  encounier  wnk  Jackal  Doge^-^ 
Soa  SwaUows^^The  Date  Palm^^The  Tamarisk^^The  Acaciafi,—The  Egypikm 
S^porrow. 

There  is  nothing  In  Egypt  like  anything  I  had  ever  seen  before.  I 
have  already  given  an  inkling  of  a  curious  kind  of  human  nature  thej 
have  here.  The  pattern  afler  which  their  animals  are  formed,  is  equally 
UDique. 

Hie  first  flock  of  goats  I  met  with,  kK4ced  so  qiiecr,  that  I  almost 
bughed  in  their  faces,  and  yet  so  dignified,  as  well  nigh  to  command 
my  reverence,  having  ears  flapping  down  like  hounds'  ears^  only 
longer,  dragging  upon  the  ground  as  they  fed,  while  the  pate,  from  the 
ejes  downward,  curved  at  least  an  inch  and  a  half  out  of  a  right  line, 
ipiving  them  the  appearance  of  having  the  Roman  nose  to  the  very  tip 
^  the  order.  And,  as  if  nature  delighted  in  setting  off  one  ludicrous 
«ltreme  against  another,  the  next  flock  I  met  had  little  bits  of  ears 
lake  cat's  ears,  and  standing  erect  in  a  similar  manner.  But  neither  were 
adorned  with  the  long,  silken,  glossy  hair,  which  constitutes  the  flowing, 
graceful  costume  of  the  Malta  goat.  The  kids,  two  or  three  to  a  dam, 
wliether  flap  or  prick-eared,  are  beautiful  little  oddities. 


JACKAL  ]X)GS,— TREI8. 


In  the  same  excursion,  I  descended  into  a  cemetery,  sate  mjssll 
down  upon  a  Moslem  tomb,  and  began  to  make  marks  with  my  peneO^ 
wheOy  all  of  a  sudden,  I  found  myself  surrounded  by  jackal  dogs,  % 
ferodous  species  of  dog  common  here,  resembling  the  jackal,  and  said 
to  bs  bred  from  that  animal.  I  kept  on  making  marks,  and  they  k^ 
np  their  hideous  bow-wow,  drawing  nearer  and  nearer,  and  forming  % 
ring  around  me,  while  the  Arabs,  men,  women  and  children,  stool 
outside  their  huts,  a  little  way  off,  looking  on,  being  evidently  on  % 
good  understanding  with  my  troublesome  assailants. 

Being  so  closely  pressed,  I  began  to  think  it  was  time  the  seige  ww 
raised,  and  so,  picking  up  some  stones,  fragments  of  the  dillapidatodi 
tomb,  I  soon  sent  them  yelping  to  their  dens.  I  have  since  leamedL 
that  these  people  regard  it  as  a  pro&nation  of  their  cemetries  for  an 
infidel  to  enter  them. 

Returning  from  my  long  and  weary  excursion,  I  halted  by  the  way^ 
beneath  the  shade  of  a  beautiful  grove  of  the  date  palm,  which  was  dl 
aUye  with  chattering  sea-swallows,  and  through  which  played  the  gral»> 
fill  breeze  of  mid-December.  These  swallows  are  so  named  from  tiia 
habit  they  have  of  dipping  into  the  sea,  as  also  into  the  Nile,  in  their 
ffight 

Tbe  groves  of  date  palm  about  Alexandria  present  a  most  fascinating 
rural  aspect.  After  a  sea  voyage,  find  in  the  midst  of  so  many  dis^ 
agreeable  objects,  they  have  all  the  refreshing  beauty  of  an  oasis  hi 
in  the  desert  And  then  there  are  the  tamarisk,  and  the'  acacias^  I 
had  seen  them  all,  in  a  dwarfed  state,  under  glass,  before,  and  in  tin 
South  of  Europe  in  the  open  air,  but,  as  thrown  up  here,  in  full  Inxn* 
riinoe,  beneadi  t^eir  native  skies,  I  seem  to  have  seen  them  for  the  firti 
time. 

The  date  palm,  being  an  endogenous  tree,  shoots  out  of  the  groonl 
its  full  size  at  once,  and  is  built  up,  story  upon  story,  from  year  to 
year,  xmial  its  scaly  trunk  lifts  itself  up,  all  the  way  of  a  siee,  andwith* 
out  bark  or  limb,  tothe  height  of  forty  or  fifty  feet,  surmounted  by  4 
tuft  of  living  green,  spreading  out  its  flexile  branches  with  all  thegratt 
and  beauty  of  ostrich  feathers,  the  fruit  hangipg  in  clusters  from 
tfadir  midst.  Ti^  latter  is  used  for  food,  and  is  quite  an  article  of  ooni» 
merce. 

The  tamarislr  too,''(Tamarix  Indica),  is  a  very  beautiful  tree.  It  may 
wdl  be  conceived  how  great  must  be  the  beauty  of  a  tree,  rising  to  tiia 
height  of  foT^  or  fifty  feet^  widi  well  spread  branches,  and  o-owned 
with  a  fbilage  like  that  of  the  asparagus,  so  dense  as  to  shut  out  te 
taysof  the  sun. 

Hie  acadas  also  aSiun  to  a  dze,  aiid  ievelope  beauties,  such  as  I  haift 


10.  LAND  OF  THE  PTBiJCID& 

— _^_ — — .^, :i_ 


iMver  tt&^  them  in  more  ungenial  climes.  Such  objects  win  the 
more  upon  your  r^ards  from  the  fact  that  there  are  ao  few  things 
here  to  divide  with  them  the  empire  of  the  heart 

But  there  are  some  things  which  do ;  for  instance,  nothing  can  exceed 
the  pretty  little  familiarities  of  the  Egyptian  sparrow,  and  here  it  is  wai- 
eoming  me  back  with  demonstrations  of  joy  to  my  hoteL  Go  where 
you  will,  in  doors  or  out,  this  little  creature  is  always  chirping  about 
you.  In  the  street,  it  is  ever  fluttering  at  your  feet,  and,  as  you  enter 
your  quarters,  in  it  comes  at  the  window,  and  is  all  over  and  every- 
'  where,  making  as  free  as  though  all  were  its  own,  and  you  cannot 
balp  feeling,  that-  its  little  heart  b  fluttering  with  sympatlietM 
«Biotion. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

\ — Pai^^s  PiOarf  <&&, — The  Aneieni  City ;  ib  exierU  amd  gramdeMit ;  A 
frowA  at  the  eapenae  of  l^fre;  its  Riae  mul  'IbU,-^^iht  die  pheefor  gemmHi  Bjngi 
IMM  AfUiqtdtie8j — Fifty  thduMnd  destroyed  by  an  Earihguakef — Ae  tower  cfPkarm 
CkopcUra's  Needle ;  (he  Catacombs^ — Fragmentary  Remains, — Fumed  for  Sdksoh 
^PhOseopky,  and  JhsHtutions  of  Cf^knMuifi^, 

1  was  standing  upon  the  rising  ground,  in  the  rear  of  the  modem 
town  of  Alexandria,  where  towers  the  finest  pillar  perhaps  in  the 
world,  consisting  of  a  single  shaft  of  solid  porphyry,  (the  hardest  rook 
Id  the  world),  twenty-seven  feet  in  circumference,  and  ninety  feet  hi|^ 
elevated  upon  a  pedestal  twelve,  and  surmounted  by  a  capital  ten  ieet 
in  height^  making  the  entire  altitude  one  hundre4  and  twelve  foet  k 
hee  been  misnaified  Pompey^s  pillar  from  the  inscription  it  bean^ 
which  has  been  found  to  be  simply  that  of  a  scribe  of  the  same  name^ 
and  not  of  the  great  general,  it  has  also  been  denominated  Diode- 
rian's  pillar,  for  the  same  reasoli,  but  manifestly  upon  InsufRcienC 
grounds,  whep  it  is  considered,  that  it  was  common  for  emperors  and 
generals  to  inscribe  their  names  upon  monuments  found  in  a  conquered 
eountry.  .'It  doubtless  hadtm  earlier  origin. 

Hiere  I  was  standing,  near  that  noble  object^  lifling  itself  up,  jn 
kmely  magnificence,  in  Uie  midst  of  surrounding  desolafion,  upon  the 
Tery  spot  wherp  centered  the  trade  of  ancient  Alexandria,  with  its  six 
hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  its  twelve  thousand  shops,  four  thousand 
palaces,  as  many  baths,  and  especially  its  subterranean  aqueduota 
i^ch  conveyed  the  filtered  water  of  the  Nile  (brought  near  fifty  miles) 
vnder  every  part  of  the  city  ;  and  near  the  spot  where  1  stood,  crossed 
at  right  angles  the  two  most  magnificent  streets  that  ever  adorned  a 
d;^,  each  of  them  being  more  thiui  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  width^and 


AtfOIENT  ALEX^LNBBIA^  81 

btiiitafiad  with  «11  the  afflueaoe  of  t*ate  whkh  Grodan  refbemeni  ooi^ 

And,  as  I  stood  there^  wrapt  in  reveries  of  the  past^  cities  and 
empires,  rising  and  fiiUing,  passed  in  review  before  me.  There  was 
lyre^  which  had  been  the  great  centre  of  commeroe  for  centuries,  and 
idudi  had  risen  to  such  a  height  of  wealth  and  greatness,  as  to  with* 
stsnd  even  the  power  of  Alexander,  outliving  siege  and  storm,  but 
quietly  yielding  up  her  supremacy  in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  trade, 
nhkik  that  sagacious  monarch  brought  to  bear  upon  her  destiny,  when 
be  selected  this  spot,  the  key  to  three  continents,  for  the  site  of  a  great 
rival  city„  to  be  built  up  at  her  expense  by  the  caravan  trade  of  the 
East  and  of  the  South ;  a  city  in  whose  bazaars  were  to  be  displayed 
the  gold,  the  ivory,'  and  the  ostrich  feathers  of  Ethiopia,  the  spices  of 
Arabia,  the  silks  of  India,  and  the  wines  of  Europe,  all  brought  hither 
by  the  hungry  nations  to  bo  exchanged  for  com. 

No  great  commercial  dty  could  ever  arise  at  either  of  the  mud* 
choked  mouths  of  the  Nile,  while  here  was  a  fine  harbor  upon  the 
eoftst,  and  less  than  fifty  miles  of  inknd  navigation  would  connect  it 
with  that  noble  river  and  its  fertile  valley.  Alexander  was  a  states- 
man  as  well  as  a  general ;  he  not  only  "  came,  saw,  and  conquered,*^ 
but  be  willed  it,  and  Alexandria  arose  the  coital  of  a  world  at  Ids 
feetr  drawing  away  the  very  life-blood  of  Tyre,  which  langjiished  and 
dedined  beneath  its  shadow,  until,  in  the  lapse  of  cctituries,  it 
beesme,  in  the  language  of  prophecy,  ^  a  place  for  the  spreading  of 
nets.'* 

And  this  great  dty  too,  mistress  of  the  world  as  she  was,  was  doom- 
ed to  foil  by  the  operation  of  the  same  laws  which  had  lifted  her  up, 
and  whidi  had  lifted  up  and  cast  down,  not  only  her  great  rival  before 
her,  but  numerous  other  great  dties  in  the  East,  whose  ruins  tell  of  a 
magnifioenee  unknown  insmodem  times. 

And,  as  though  the  operation  of  these  diverting  causes  were  too  tar- 
dy, the  elements  conspired  to  hasten  the  catastrophe  which  awaited 
this  proud  dty.  Her  palaces  were  thro^m  down,  and  fifty  thousand 
oiher  people  destroyed  by  an  earthquake  at  one  time.  It  i&  not  im^ 
pKobable,  that  that  wonderfiil  structure,  the  tower  of  Pharos,  8ur> 
mounted  by  a  mirror,  in  which,  it  was  said,  vessels  oould  be  seen  a 
hundred  miles  at  sea^  was  shaken  down  at  the  same  tame. 

As  this.waa  rather  a  Gredan  than  an  Egyptian  dty^  having  been 
founded  by  Gredan  rulers— built  in  the  Gredan  style^  and  by  Gredan 
srtaata,  after  the  power  of  the  Pharaohs  had  passed  away,'  (about  83(^ 
years  B.  C)  it  would  be  preposterous  to  look  for  gonuine  j^ptain 
antiquities  among  its  xuina. 


8t  LAND  OF  THE  PTBAIODB. 

There  is,  to  be  sure,  the  beautiful  obelisk,  called  *' Cleopatra's 
needle,"  of  rose-colored  granite,  covered  with  hieroglyphs  exquidtd  j 
wrought,  a  single  quadrUateral  shaft,  sixty  or  seventy  feet  in  height, 
which  dates  ha/ck  to  the  palmy  days  of  the  Pharaohs,  probably  to 
that  Pharaoh  who  was  ootemporary  with  Moses ;  but  it  was  traoa- 
ported  hither  to  adorn  the  city  of  the  Ptolemies,  as  other  similar  ones 
have  <been  transported  across  the  sea  to  grace  the  modem  capitals  of 
Europe. 

The  catacombs,  whidi  at  present  open  only  from  the  sea  shore,  are 
quite  extensive,  but  they  are  manifestly  of  Grecian  or  Roman  ori^n. 
No  mummies,  or  embalmed  bodies,  have  ever  been  found  in  their  sub- 
terranean chambers,  a  circumstance  which  quite  precludes  the  idea  of 
Egyptian  origin.  On  the  contrary,  urns  for  containing  the  sshes  of 
the  dead,  according  to  the  customs  of  both  Greece  and  Rome,  are  often 
found  in  them,  while  there  is  an  entire  absence  of  hieroglyphic  inscrip- 
tions, and  of  paintings  upon  the  walls,  representing  the  domestic  and 
rural  life  of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  such  as  are  invariably  found  in  their 
tombs. 

The  ancient  city  is  only  to  be  seen  in  fragmentary  remains,  heire 
and  there,  as  they  have  been  thrown  up  in  making  excavations, 
from  time  to  time,  consisting  of  broken  columns,  capitals,  ^c, 
save  that  a  venerable  ruin  called  "'  The  Roman  Tower,"  still 
stands. 

But  it  is  quite  another  dass  of  associations  which  endears  Alexandria 
to  the  memory,  associations  which  connect  it  with  schools  of  philoso- 
phy, and  the  institutions  of  Christianity.  It  was  here  that  the  first 
Ptolemy  gathered  around  him  the  most  learned  men  of  all  countries, 
himself  being  the  greatest  ornament  among  them  of  the  learning  he 
was  so  ready  to  encourage ;  here  that  he  collected  the  fiunous  library, 
whose  seven  hundred  thousand  volumes  lit  up  the  dark  night  of  the 
previous  ages,  as  with  so  many  suns  and  stars,  but  which,  a  thousand 
years  aftewards,  was  burned  to  ashes  by  the  barbarous  Saracens,  and 
thus  lost  to  the  world,  with  nothing  to  supply  its  place ;  and  here,  too, 
that  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  were  translated  into  Greek  by*  seventy 
learned  men,  who  executed  the  difficult  task  with  great  credit^,  under 
the  auspices  of  Ptolemy  himself. 

It  was  here,  that  Christianity  was  early  introduced,  probably  bj 
Mark  himself;  here  that  some  of  tiie  most  distinguished  of  tlie  chris- 
tion  fiithers  lived,  and  that  one  of  the  most  renowned  schools  of 
theology  in  Christendom  flourished ;  here  tliat  christian  churches  were 
established,  and  that  missionary  enterprises  were  projected,  which  dis- 
seminated the  li^t  of  the  gospel  to  the  remotest  parts  of  ilgypt. 


A  D£LU0E,--GRAKD  CAKAL.  99 

CHAPTER  V. 

Iknbarh  far   Ckwro — A  Memorable  Spot— The  Great  Canal— A  Specimen — VtShg^ 
-  Sik» — JBotuet  and  Inmates  Swept  away  hy  the  Overflowiyig  Waters — First  View  oi 
Urn  NUe,  HaMaffnUude,  its  Fowcr  of  Annual  Overflow,  Effects  of  it,  Couwv  of  M. 

It  was  on  a  delightful  December  day,  that  we  embarked  upon  • 
small  steamer  for  Grand  Cairo,  by  way  of  the  ship  eanal  and  the  Nile*. 
For  the  first  twelve  or  fifteen  miles,  as  I  should  judge,  avc  were  bome* 
along  upon  a  narrow  ridge,  which  separates  lakes  £tko  on  the  left^ 
from  the  great  artificial  liJce  Mereotis  on  the  right,  which  latter  sweeps 
along  bac^  of  Alexandria,  and  is  in  full  view  from  Pompey's  pilkr* 
So  narrow  is  the  intervening  space,  along  which  the  canal  runs,  and  so 
doee  the  proximity  of  the  water  on  either  hand,  that  it  was  almost 
like  being  upon  a  highway  thrown  up  in  mid-ooean. 

It  was  through  this  dividing  ridge,  or  Isthmus,  that,  in  the  year  1800; 
iJie  British  commander  cut  a  sluiceway,  to  circumvent  the  army  of 
Na{K)leon,  and  gain  tiie  mastery  in  Egypt  The  water  in  lake  Mereotis 
was  ax  feet  lower  than  the  surfiice  of  lake  Etko,  which  latter  was  con* 
nected  with  the  sea.  As  a  stroke  of  military  tactics,  a  communication 
was  opened,  and  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  set  to  flowing  tfarougk 
tike  breach,  with  the  impetus  of  such  a  ^1.  What  fearful  consequences 
would  follow  no  mortal  could  tell.  The  shores  of  lake  Mereotis  were 
low,  and  beyond  it  stretched  a  vast  extent  of  low,  level  country,  and 
by  some  it  was  apprehended,  that  Alexandria  ifiself  would  be  submerged* 
It  flowed  on  a  fUll  month,  when  the  flood  tide  was  stayed,  and  with  It 
die  panic 

This  canal,  (from  Alexandria  to  the  Nile)  is  forty-eight  miles  in 
length,  about  one  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  eighteen  in  depth,  and  was 
oonstnicted  by  Mohammed  Ali,  in  the  year  1819,  in  the  short  space  of 
nx  weeks,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  civilized  world-  But  the  secret 
is  soon  told.  The  Pallia  is  the  prince  of  slave-holders,  possessing  the 
power  of  life  and  death  over  his  sulyects.  and  deciding  their  destinies  by 
the  wave  of  bis  hand.  ^ 

Having  made  up  his  mind,  that  a  ship  canal  from  Alexandria  to  the 
the  Nile,  would  conduce  to  the  bcnelit  of  the  country,  he  issued  his 
orders  to  all  the  inliabiUmts  of  lower  Egypt  to  come  and  dig  it ;  and 
forth  they  came  in  swaims,  nun,  women  and  children,  under  their 
respective  sheiks.  The  numlicr  of  laborers  is  said  to  have  amounted 
to  two  hundred  and  fifty  tlioua,ind,  besides  their  wives  and  children, 
who  were  along  Avith  them.  It  must  have  been  an  awful  scene  of  pri- 
vation and  suffering.  Twenty  thonsand  of  them  are  said  to  have 
miserably  perished  before  the  work  was  completed.     They  received. 


34  LAND  OF  THE  PYBAMIDa 

■ — — ^1«MI   ■■»  ■  ■— — —  ■  I  »»  ..—-—..     I. 

wages  indeed,  if  that  oould  be  called  wages  oe  which  they  could  barel  j 
subsist  during  the  service. 

And  yet  these  people  never  spent  a  thought  upon  their  grievances, 
nor  breathed  a  sigh  for  deliverance.  On  the  contrary,  tlie  work  went 
bravely  on,  to  the  tune  of  the  song  of  mirth,  the  ribald  joke,  and  the 
merry  lai^h.  We  had  a  spedmen  of  it,  having  passed  no  less  than 
four  dredging  machines  at  work  deepening  the  cansi,  to  each  of  which 
was  attached  a  corps  of  a  hundred  or  two  men,  whose  task  it  was  to 
carry  the  mud  excavated  by  the  machine  on  shore  in  buckets.  Their 
naked  bodies  were  all  besmeared  with  the  mud  which  dripped  down 
from  the  buckets  which  they  bore  brimful  upon  their  shoulders,  and 
yet  they  seemed  just  as  brimful  themselves  of  fun  and  enjoyment.  They 
too  had  come  here  with  their  wives  and  children  at  the  bidding  of  the 
Pasha. 

The  canal  bears  the  name  of  Mahmoudieh,  in  honor,  I  suppose,  of 
the  great  Pasha.  The  work  consisted,  I  believe,  chiefly,  in  clearing 
out  the  old  canal,  which  connected  ancient  Alexandria  with  the  Nile, 
but  which  had  been  hundreds  of  years  filling  up,  from  the  deposits  of 
the  overflowing  waters,  which  process  was  facilitated  by  the  low,  level, 
and  marshy  character  of  the  soil,  so  that  to  restore  it,  scarcely 
less  labor  was  required,  than  in  its  original  construction. 

There  seems  to  be  nothing  so  bad,  but  good  may  result  from  it. 
Nothing  can  be  more  unjust  and  cruel,  than  suck  a  Government.  •  And 
yet,  with  sitck  a  people,  suck  a  Goverement  onltfj  could  have  eflected 
an  object  so  indispensable  to  the  best  interests  of  the  country.  This 
circumstance,  however,  so  tar  from  extenuating  the  wickedness  of  the 
Government,  only  aggravates  it,  for  it  was  suck  a  Government  that 
made  suck  a  people. 

Emerging  from  between  the  two  lakes,  our  way  lay  through  a  low, 
but  level  country,  too  wet,  for  the  most  part,  to  produce  anything  but 
rice,  but  with  occasional  slight  elevations  which  served  as  village  sites 
for  the  peasantry,  whose  mud  huts  resembled  more  the  habitations  of 
the  beaver  and  the  muskrat,  than  the  abodes  of  men. 

It  is  upon  these,  and  like  low  grounds  of  Lower  Egypt,  that  des> 
truction  does  its  work  upon  these  hapless  people,  at  certain  fearful 
periods  of  their  hisV)ry.  The  annual  Overflow  being  indispensable  to 
their  existence,  and  the  source  of  all  their  earthly  blessings,  its  advent  is 
the  signal  for  a  general  jubilee.  The  first  indications  of  the  rising  tide 
are  hailed  with  demonstrations  of  joy,  and  its  gradual  upward  tendency 
is  marked  with  eager  interest  from  day  to  day,  until.it  overflows  its 
banks  and  inundates  the  country,  the  hearts  of  the  people  overflowing 
with  joy  at  the  same  timp. 


ANNUAL  DBLUGE,— THB  NILB.  36 

And  now  all  i^ypt  resigns  itself  to  joy  and  feasting,  no  less  from 
natire  impulses,  than  as  an  expression  of  tumultuous  gladness  for  the 
retaining  flood-tide.  Shut  up  in  their  villages,  surrounded  by  a  wide 
e3q)anse  of  waters,  they  give  themselves  up  to  the  indulgence  of 
their  &vorite  pastimes,  under  the  inspiration  of  coffee  and  the  pipe,  to 
the  extent  of  their  humble  means ;  and  sometimes,  for  variety^s  sake, 
they  go  in  boats  from  village  to  village,  to  interchange  congratulations 
and  open  new  sources  of  enjoyment 

Occasionally,  however,  there  comes  round  a  year,  when  all  this  glow 
of  ^oyment  is  quendied  in  the  rising  waters,  and  every  voice  is  stilled . 
H^ice  the  rise  of  the  Nile  is  not  more  anxiously  looked  for,  than  is  its 
decline,  when  it  has  arisen  to  its  accustomed  height,  for  sometimes^ 
instead  of  retiring  at  the  expected  time^  it  keeps  rising,  and  rising,  and 
rising,  overwhelming  village  after  village,  and  engulphing  their  inha- 
bitants. 

At  the  toudi  of  the  rising  waters,  the  frail  abodes  of  the  terror- 
stricken  villagers,  slake  like  lime,  and,  crumbling  into  heaps,  are  soon 
borne  away  by  the  moving  tide,  not  a  vestige  being  left  to  mark  the 
spot  where  they  stood. 

Do  you  see  that  gentle  rising  ground,  all  smooth  and  bare,  marked 
only  by  a  solitary  palm — sftf4va  Levantine  resident  of  the  country  to 
me,  as  we  were  nearing  the  Nile.  *'  A  little  more  than  a  year  ago,  he 
continued,  there  stood  a  considerable  village,  and,  as  I  passed,  the  chil- 
dren were  at  play,  and  the  old  men  sat  smoking  their  pipes  outside 
the  mud  huts.  Three  months  afterwards  I  passed,  and  all  had  been 
swept  away,  leaving  the  desolation  you  now  see."  Last  year  the  Nile 
rose  much  above  its  accustomed  height,  many  villages  were  swept 
away,  and  both  man  and  beast  perished  in  the  surging  waters. 

.  And  now,  for  the  first  time,  I  look  down  upon  the  Nile,  (venerable 
river !)  rolling  on,  in  the  same  silent  majesty  now,  as  when  it  bore  to 
its  destination  t^e  seven  years'  supply  of  com,jor  floated  the  bulrush 
cradle  of  Moses,  or  felt  the  power  of  the  Almighty,  and  became 
blood. 

9 

I  had  seen  a  great  many  rivers  &med  in  classic  story,  but  never  one 
which  did  not  disappoint  my  expectations — never  one  which  did  not 
contrast  ludicrously  with  allusions  to  it  found  upon  the  classic  page. 
Having  been  so  often  cheated  by  the  romance  of  the  poets,  I  had  pre- 
pared my  mind  for  a  like  disappointment  upon  approaching  the  Nile, 
but,  to  my  joyful  surprise,  the  reality  far  surpassed  any  conception  of 
it  I  had  previously  formed.  No  river  in  Europe,  not  even  the  Dan- 
ube, ranks  with  it  in  magnitude,  and  none  in  our  own  coimtry,  unless 
it  be  *'  the  Father  of  waters."    Tliis  is  only  the  Rosetta  branch,  and 


36  LAOT)  OP  THE  PTBAMEDa 


yet  it  is  often  more  than  a  mile  in  width  within  its  banks ;  it  is  twen-« 
ty-six  hundred  miles  in  length,  and  moves  with  a  powerful  current ; 
and — what  can  be  said  of  no  other  river  in  ^the  world — for  thirteen 
hundred  miles,  in  the  last  stage  of  its  course,  it  does  not  receive  a  sin- 
gle tributary,  presenting  the  extraordinary  spectacle  of  a  continued 
increase  of  size  as  you  ascend  it,  (from  the  effects  of  evaporation  and 
absorption),  until  you  reach  a  distance  of  thirteen  hundred  miles  from 
the  sea! 

But  the  most  extraordinary  attribute  of  this  extraordinary  river, 
consists  in  its  power  of  annual  overflow,  ^hereby  it  has  transformed 
the  desert  into  the  most  fertile  valley  in  the  world.  Underneath  the 
mud  deposits  which  make  Egypt  what  it  is,  there  lies  a  bed  of  sand, 
of  the  same  general  character  with  the  adjacent  deserts,  showing  that 
this  luxuriant  intervale  once  constituted  a  part  of  the  unbroken  soli- 
tude which  broods  over  almost  all  Northern  Africa. 

Thus  Egypt  owes  everything  to  the  Nile,  and  the  Nile  is  equally 
indebted  to  the  rains  which  fall  periodically  upon  the  high  landsr  &r 
away  towards  the  equator.  As  early  as  the  first  of  April,  the  streams 
of  Southern  Abyssinia  begin  to  swell,  and  by  the  first  of  June  they 
are  full,  but  such  is  the  immense  distance,  and  so  great  a  river  is  the 
Nile,  that  it  does  not  overflow  in  Egypt,  until  three  months  afterwards, 
and  then,  another  six  weeks  elapses  before  it  retires  within  its  banks, 
making  more  than  six  months  from  the  time  the  first  precious  drops 
fell  from  the  clouds ;  after  which  it  is  three  or  four  months  in  fidling 
to  its  lowest  stage. 

The  tributary  streams  near  its  source,  are  said  to  be  highly  colored 
with  vegetable  matter,  as  though  they  had  flowed  down  f)*om  the  high 
table  lands,  steeped  in  a  luxuriant  vegetation ;  and  even  in  Egypt  the 
overflowing  waters  are  thus  discolored.  From  this  source  are  doubt- 
less derived  those  fertilizing  elements,  which  have  been  brought  down, 
and  distributed  over  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  particle  by  particle,  until 
it  had  become  one  vast  bed  of  alluvial  deposit. 

The  causes  which  have  operated  to  concentrate  the  watery  vapor  of 
the  atmosphere  in  that  tropical  region,  have  been  a  subject  of  much 
speculation.  The  most  plausible  supposition  is,  that,  while  the  sun 
remains  stationary,  or  nearly  so,  over  the  tropic  of  Capricorn,  the  «af 
in  those  regions  becomes  rarified  by  its  heat,  and  consequently  that  the 
more  distant  atmosphere,  charged  with  watery  vapor,  rushes  in  from 
every  point  of  the  compass,  from  the  Indian  Ocean  on  the  East,  the 
great  Southern  Ocean  on  the  South,  the  Atlantic  on  the  West,  and  the 
Mediterranean  on  the  North,  and  meeting  upon  the  mountains  of  Abys- 
sinia, pours  down  its  torrents. 


SCENE  IN  LONDON.  3t 


SCENE  IN  LONDON.    TRAGEDY  IN  REAL  LIFE. 


BT  TBI  BAHX. 


In  the  very  heart  of  London,  within  a  stone's  throw,  almost,  of  St. 
Paul's,  stands  a  venerable  hotel,  and  it  is  one  of  those  sunny  spots 
where  the  tourist  delights  to  linger.  Thither  I  directed  my  steps,  on 
arriving  in  the  great  metropolis,  and  there  the  days  and  weeks  passed 
pleasantly  away. 

Afler  an  absence  of  ten  months  in  the  East,  I  again  sought  out  the 
pleasant  retreat,  and  had  enjoyed  in  anticipation  the  smiling  welcome 
I  should  receive.  But,  alas,  how  changed !  A  cloud  had  come  over 
that  sunny  spot,  the  house  was  darkened,  and  the  family  secluded  from 
observation ;  the  servants  walked  softly,  and  conversed  in  under  tones. 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  cause,  the  king  of  terrors,  said  I  to  myself, 
is  here ;  and  I  was  soon  informed,  that  the  landlord  was  dying.  Dying! 
and  from  what  cause  1  To  this  question  the  servants  returned  no 
direct  answer,  but  a  friend  from  Leeds  (whom  I  found  there  as  I 
expected)  whispered  in  my  ear  the  dreadful  secret.  It  was  from  deli- 
rium tremens^  and  he  added,  that  he  had  had  two  or  thi*ee  attacks  of  it 
in  my  absence. 

Never  was  I  more  astounded.  After  passing  weeks  at  the  house,  I 
jad  discovered  n6  indication  of  intemperate  habits  in  the  landlord.  It 
appeared,  however,  that  he  had  fostered  the  appetite  secretly  in  his 
brandy  vault. 

He"  died — ^a  lead  coffin  was  procured,  in  which  his  remains,  sealed 
up,  were  to  lie  "  in  state,"  a  full  week  before  burial,  though  it  was  in 
the  heat  of  summer,  a  custom  general  in  England  with  those  who  can 
affi>rd  the  expense.  And  even  this,  forbidding  and  undesirable  as  it 
may  appear  to  our  people,  is  but  a  humble  imitation  of  the  example 
of  the  wealthy  and  the  great,  who  sometimes  keep  their  dead  three 
months,  before  committing  them  to  their  final  resting  place.  The 
degree  of  respect  thus  paid  to  the  dead,  seems  to  be  indicative,  to  some 
extent,  of  one's  rank  in  society,  and  many  are  thus  temptexl  to  go 
beyond  their  means,  and  even  to  subject  themselves  and  families  to 
privation  in  paying  the  last  tribute. 

The  opposite  extreme  of  burying  too  hastily,  may  perhaps  be  laid 
to  our  charge*  Some  fearful  instances  of  thus  entombing  persons 
alive,  have  been  revealed.     To  obviate'this,  in  some  parts  of  Germany, 


36  SCENE  IN  LONDON. 


I  learned,  the  departed  are  left  in  the  tomb  with  a  bell-pull  in  one 
band.  But,  in  this  case,  the  coffin  being  sealed,  I  saw  little  chance  for 
•scape,  had  the  poor  inebriate  awaked. 

But  I  am  wandering — ^the  symbols  of  mourning  were  now  multi^ 
plied,  the  curtains  were  drawn  closer  at  the  windows,  and  the  whole 
house  draped  in  a  deeper  gloom.  It  is  a  custom  here,  for  the  female 
members  of  the  bereaved  fiBonily  to  shut  themselves  up,  and  resign 
themselves  to  grief,  until  "  the  days  of  their  mourning  are  ended,"  or, 
until  the  (departed  one  is  committed  to  the  tomb,  a  custom  which  was 
strictly  observed  on  this  occasion. 

In  the  mean  time,  my  friend  and  myself,  were  solicited  not  to  leave 
the  house,  and  recdved  all  necessary  attention  from  the  servants. 
Time  moved  on,  and^omething  more  than  half  of  the  dismal  week 
had  passed  away,  when,  suddenly,  a  loud  shriek,  as  of  a  female  voice, 
brought  us  to  our  feet,  and,  ruslung  to  the  apartment  whence  it  pro- 
ceeded, we  were  horrified  to  see  a  lurid  flame  streaming  up  from  the 
coffin  lid,  high  toward  the  ceiling,  and  contiuuing  so  to  do  for  some 
time,  to  the  dismay  of  every  beholder. 

The  facts  in  the  case  were,  that  the  family,  on  discovering  that  the 
sides  and  lid  of  the  coffin  were  bilging  out,  as  though  from  internal 
pressure,  had,  in  their  alarm,  sent  for  the  physician,  and,  upon  his  arri- 
val, he  had  made  an  aperture  in  the  lid,  when  the  gasses  resulting  from 
the  decomposition  of  the  body,  (which  had  thus  pressed  the  coffin  out 
of  shape),  rushed  out  with  great  violence,  and  with  a  loud  noise,  as 
though  from  the  escape  of  steam.  And,  to  prevent  any  ill  effect,  he 
had  touched  a  lighted  candle  to  it,  when  it  instantly  ignited,  and  henoe 
the  fiery  current  we  saw  rushing  from  the  cofRn  lid.  It  continued  to 
stream  forth,  casting  a  hideous  glare  upon  every  object  in  the  room, 
for  a  minute  or  two,  when  gradually,  as  the  pressure  ceased  within,  it 
died  away,  and  finally  ffickered  and  went  out. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  sad  ceremonial,  forth  came  the  ladies  of  the 
household  from  their  seclusion,  and,  as  by  magic,  every  thing  resumed 
its  wonted  aspect.  Behind  the  bar  stood  the  widow  in  her  weeds,  as 
though  nothing  unusual  had  occurred.  And  her  beautiful  daughter  too, 
who  had  shrieked  and  fainted,  was  there,  with  as  sunny  a  face,  as 
though  no  trace  of  the  awful  scene  had  been  left  upon  her  mind.  But, 
it  is  to  be  considered,  that,  while  the  high  noon  of  temperance  was 
pouring  light  upon  our  own  country,  the  day-dawn  had  scarcely  lit  the 
horizon  in  England. 


SKBTGHES  OF  BORDBR  LUB.  39 


SKETCHES  OF   BORDER    LIFE. 


BT  A  CTTIL  IHOnnUK. 


CHAPTER   I.  •* 

Afcai  en  tht  Miansaippi — Berrmiscence  of  Childhood — Difficulty  of  Navigation — Tht 
Pihi^  Ms  SkiQ  amd  Importance — Mates,  their  Depravity — Deck  Hands^  their  7ll«^ 
HobHSj  and  BrwtdHzed  CkAidition — A  OamtHing  Scene,  the  Adore,  Oame.  and  VtC' 
Him — A  Miaaimppi  Steam  Boat — A  Kick  Behind^Landing. 

It  was  on  a  beautiful  night,  during  the  summer  of  1855,  that  I  found 
mjself  steaming  down  the  tortuous  course  of  the  Mississippi  river. 
Hie  tide  of  Emigration  was  then  setting  in  ^U  flow  towards  Iowa  and 
Kansas.  The  untiring  spirit  of  progress  and  improvement,  cramped 
and  crippled  in  the  East,  was  seeking  enlargement  on  the 
boundless  prairies  of  the  West,  and  to  this  I  owed  my  advent  to 
Iowa. 

I  was  at  the  time,  on  my  way  to  join  a  party  in  connection  with  the 
survey  of  a  projected  railroad^  which  had  been  considered  not  long 
before,  as  impracticable  and  visionary,  but  of  which  the  greater  part  is 
now  completed  and  in  operation.  This  project  was  nothing  less  than 
a  continuous  air  line,  connecting  New  York  city,  by  way  of  Philadel- 
phia, with  Council  Bluffs,  on  the  Missouri  river. 

Prairie  life  was  not  unfamiliar  to  me,  as  I  had  spent  years  on  the 
pioneer  railroads  of  Wisconsin  and  Illinois,  but  though  they  were 
pioneer  roads,  they  were  not,  as  in  Iowa,  the  pioneers  of  civilization, 
those  States  having  been  well  settled,  before  the  railroad  mania  had 
found  its  way  so  &t  West.  It  is  from  my  experiences  in  this  capacity, 
replete  with  incident  and  adventure,  in  field  and  camp,  that  I  propose 
to  draw  the  material  for  the  following  sketches  : — 

I  left  the  flourishing  city  of  Rock  Island  about  sun  down,  on  the  ^t 
t>acket  J.  McEey,  bound  down  the  river,  and  as  I  sat  on  the  deck  enjoy- 
ing a  cigar,  and  watching  the  dim  lights  of  the  city,  as  they  receded  into, 
the  fitst  gathering  shades  of  evening,  I  felt  as  though  one  at  least,  of  th« 
dreams  of  my  childhood  was  realised. 

As  we  glided  away  into  the  night,  and  all  sound  was  hushed  save  the 
rushing  of  waters,  and  the  deep,  regular  breathing  of  the  engines,  I  was 
reminded  of  the  dim  visions  that  had  floated  through  my  juvenile  mind, 
when,  a  diligent  seeker  after  knowledge  at  the  instigation  of  the  ferrule, 
I  followed  that  dreaded  instrument,  on  the  map,  down  the  long,  dark 


6KB!rOHB8  OT  BOBDBB^  UTK 


line  that  indicated  the  course  of  the  Father  of  Waters,  and  shouted  in 
chorus,  Mls-sissip-pi  !  Ffyriy-four-hun-dred  ! 

The  Mississippi  river,  I  found,  however,  not  so  formidable  a  stream 
as  I  had  supposed.  It  varies  in  width  from  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to 
three  quarters,  is  very  crooked,  and  studded  with  innume- 
cable  islands.  The  channel  frequently  crosses  and  recrosses  the  bed 
of  the  river,  and  is  constantly  changing  its  position,  from  the  formation 
of  sand  bars,  and  the  a<^umulation  of  sediment,  brought  down  by  the 
current.  This,  together  with  the  frequent  recurrence  of  "  snags'^  and 
^  sawyers"  renders  a  considerable  amount  of  skill  necessary  to  safe  navi- 
gation. 

The  pilot  to  whom  this  navigation  is  entirely  confided,  is  consequent- 
ly, a  man  of  much  importance.  He  must  be  intimately  acquainted 
with  all  the  turns  of  the  crooked  channel,  and  the  location  of  sand  bars, 
.and  other  impediments,  for  hundreds  of  miles  up  and  down  the  riv^. 
He  must  be  able  to  remember  with  exactness  the  general  contour  of 
the  country  through  which  he  passes,  and  must  have,  fixed  in  his  mind, 
cerUdn  landmarks  which  he  can  always  recognise  .in  the  darkest  nighty 
(rendered  still  darker  by  the  overshadowing  hills  and  woods,)  keeping 
Ins  boat  in  the  channel  aud  avoiding  all  danger,  with  no  other  guide 
than  occasional  glimpses  t«  be  caught  of  the  shore.  Of  course  every 
person  who  attempts  it,  does  not  succeed  in  attaining  the  d<^ree  of  per- 
i&ction  necessary,  and  hence  the  pilots  are  a  very  privileged  and  inde-  * 
ftendent  class.  They  consider  it  their  especial  privilege  to  do  the  leasl 
work,  and  get  the  best  pay,  of  any  on  board  the  boat.  Their  gains  are . 
.•ometimes  enormous,  i»y  taking  advantage  of  the  neoessities  of  a 
Jboat. 

I  was  once  informed  by  a  captain,  that  he  had  paid  a  pilot  the  sum 
of  thirteen  hundred  dollars  for  a  little  less  than  twenty-one  days  work^ 
ia  a  case  of  necessity,  in  which  the  boat  would  otherwise  have  been 
obliged  to  lie  still,  and  tiius  probably  have  lost  twice  that  amount* 
Their  usual  wages  are  from  two  to  three  hundred  dollars  a  ^lontI]^ 
SMSording  to  their  ability  and  experience. 

Another  peculiar  feature  of  Mississippf  navigation  is  to  be  seen  in 
.  did  character  of  the  ''  deck  hands."  Of  these,  tiie  larger  class  boats 
carry  from  twenty  to  thirty,  and  the  smaller  ones,  from  fifteen  to 
twenty.  They  are  employed  in  wooding,  and  loading  and  uBloadizi^ 
the  grain,  wl^di  is  all  shipped  in  sacks,  called  '*  gunnies,"  for  convenience 
of  transportation,  the  cargo  being  stowed  on  deck  instead  of  in  the 
hold}  as  in  lake  transportation,  the  largest  of  the  river  boats  not  hav- 
kig  over  five  feet  depth  of  hold.  The  sacks  contain  only  about  two 
JM^jiAla  each,  making  a  convenient  load  for  a  man.  A  large  number  of 


/ 


DICK  HAND8^--1£ATKS.  41 


nien  are  required  to  get  them  on  board  in  the  short  space  of  time 
allowed  for  stoppage.  Ajs  there  is  no  other  employment  for  them^  they 
are  idle  most  of  the  time  when  the  boat  is  under  way,  but  are  required 
to  torn  out  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  and  of  the  night,  to  load  and  unload, 
and  to  wood,  and  are  never  allowed  sleep  or  meal  time  when  the  boat 
is  at  the  landing.  At  the  same  time  they  have  dealt  out  to  them  an 
ambimt  of  cursing  and  abuse,  no  where  to  be  heard,  but  from  the 
mouth  of  a  Mississppi  steam  boat  mate,  or  a  Isouisiana  negro  driver. 
As  they  have  no  regular  meal  time,  so  they  have  no  regular  table,  or 
even  place  for  eating,  but,  gathering  around  the  huge  pan,  in  which 
their  victuals  are  served  up,  each  one  scoops  out  upon  a  tin  plate,  his 
share,  and,  finding  a  seat  on  the  woodpile,  or  on  the  guard,  with  feet 
swinging  over  the  side,  disposes  of  it  without  the  aid  of  knife  or  fork. 
Besotted  in  body  by  whiskey,  and  degraded  in  mind  by  constant  abuse 
and  ill  treatment,  they  seem  to  have  lost  all  independence  and  manli- 
ness of  character.  Of  course  there  is  but  one  class  among  our  popula- 
tion who  can  be  brought  to  submit  to  so  degrading  a  life,  the  low  class 
of  Irish,  and  of  these  the  deck  hands  are  almost  entirely  composed. 
There  are  thousands  of  these  degraded  beings  upon  these  waters,  shut 
out  jfrom  all  good  influences,  and  abandoned  to  the  lowest  vices.  Their 
usual  wages  are  forty  dollars  a  month,  amply  sufficient  to  raise  them 
to  circumstances  of  comfort  and  abundance,  but  for  the  evil  habits  which 
entail  upon  them  poverty  and  wretchedness. 

Of  the  mates,  the  prominent  characteristics  are,  their  coarseness  of 
demeanor,  and  proficiency  and  versidity  in  the  art  of  cursing,  in  which 
likey  are  excelled  by  none.  Their  chief  business  is  the  supenntendenoe 
of  the  deck  hands  in  loading,  unloading,  wooding,  &C 

The  boats  are  required  by  law  to  carry  a  steam  whistle,  which  is 
always  used  as  a  signal,  when  they  meet.  The  boat  that  is  descending, 
designating  by  that  means  which  side  ofjih^  channel  it  will  take,  and  the 
other  immediately  giving  way  and  taking  the  other  side.  There  are 
also  a  variety  of  other  signals  prescribed  by  law,  to  be  used  in  particu- 
lar cases. 

As  the  boat  approaches  a  landing  at  night,  the  inhabitants  are  warn- 
ed by  a  long,  shrill  note  from  the  whistle,  the  deck  hands  roused  and 
kicked  Qutf,  and  a  fire  displayed  on  the  bow  for  the  purpose  of  light,  in 
a  small  ircm  framework  used  for  the  purpose;  the  lines  overhauled,  and 
the  stages  (firameworks  of  plank  about  thirty  feet  long)  got  ready  to 
be  shoved  ashore.  Such  a  thing  as  a  wharf  or  dock  t6  shove  the  plank 
i^n,  never  was  known  on  the  Mississippi,  or  its  tributaries,  the  rise 
and  &11  of  the  river,  which  ranges  firom  ten  to  twenty  feet  on  the  upper 
waters,  rendering  them  impracticable,  but  the  shore  is  graded  and 


42  SKETCHES  OF  BOBDEB  LIFE. 


p(!^^,  forming  what  is  called  a  "  Levee,"  some  of  which  are  very 
extensive  and  costly.  The  cities  of  Keokuk  and  Quincy,  for  instance, 
are  built  upon  bluffs  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  river,  which  arc 
graded  and  paved  in  a  regular  slope  to  the  water^s  edge,  presenting  a 
fine  appearance  firom  the  river. 

The  bow  of  the  boat  is  run  upon  the  levee  until  she  grounds,  the 
stages  shoved  out,  the  deck  hands  jump  ashore  if  they  can,  if  not,  into 
the  water  and  wade  asliore  with  the  mooring  lines,  and  disappear  ih 
the  darkness,  but  soon  are  seen  returning,  each  with  a  sack  of  com, 
wheat  or  oats,  upon  his  shoulders.  Back  and  forth  they  continue  to 
stream  without  intermission,  till  all  is  on  board,  the  mate,  during  all 
this  time,  exercising  his  lungs  vrith,  '^  Oh,  pick  'em  up !  pick  'em  up  ! 
In  with  'em !  Don't  git  to  sleep  there,  you  lubbers !  Hurry  up ! 
Hurry  up !"  &c.,  &c.,  if  he  happens  to  be  in  good  humor ;  but  if  the 
contrary  is  the  case,  a  storm  of  oaths  and  execrations  breaks  forth. 

Another  feature  of  Mississippi  steamboating  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  witnessing,  as  I  threw  away  my  cigar,  and  joined  the  company  assem- 
bled in  the  cabin.  Seated  at  a  table,  and  surrounded  by  a  crowd,  was 
a  small,  and  exceedingly  voluble  little  man,  with  three  cards  lying 
before  him,  and  some  two  or  three  hundred  dollars  in  gold  profhsely 
displayed  at  his  elbow.  The  game  was  "  French  Monte,"  played  by 
means  of  the  three  cards,  one  of  which  was  a  jack.  He  placed  them 
on  the  table,  side  by  side,  backs  up,  first  showing  by  turning  up  the 
card,  which  was  the  jack,  and  having  shuffled  them  a  little,  offered  to 
bet  from  one  to  five  hundred  dollars  that  nobody  could  turn  the  jack. 
He  shuffled  them  so  slowly,  that  it  was  perfectly  easy  for  any  one  who 
paid  attention  to  the  game,  to  follow  the  jack  through  his  hands,  and 
back  to  the  table  again,  and  there  seemed  no  reason  why  five  hundred 
dollars  could  not  be  made  as  well  as  not,  as  those  who  took  the  pains 
to  trace  the  card,  invariably  agreed  as  to  its  position,  and  found,  upon 
his  displaying  the  face,  that  they  were  always  right  Still  he  challen- 
ged them  with  so  bold  a  face,  to  bet  five  hundred  dollars  on  the  card, 
that  they  all  declined. 

Nothing  discouraged,  he  shuffled  his  cards,  and  plied  his  arguments 
anew,  displaying  his  volubility  something  afler  this  fashion : 

'^  Here,  gentlemen,  is  the  chance  to  make  your  fortunes,  in  this  most 
discreet,  reliable,  honest,  and^  easy  to  be  seen  through  of  all  games. 
Please  to  bet  on  the  jack !  Which  did  you  say  was  the  jack,  sir  ?" 
turning  to  a  gentleman  who  was  watching  the  cards  very  attentively. 
Hie  gentleman  indicated  a  card.  *'  Of  course  it  is,"  said  he,  as  he  gare 
the  card  a  fiip,  and  showed  the  face.  "Why  did'nt  you  bet?  You 
will  perceive,  gentlemen,  that  I  shuffle  these  cards  very  fast,  so  fast  in 


GAMBLING,— MYSTBEY  SOLVED.  43 

^  I  II    *  ■  ■   I  -     -  I  -11  ■  ■  ■    ■  ^^M    ^   M   ■  -^BM  ^M    ■  I     ■■  ^  ■   ■     I        ^^^      ■  _^M     _l  ■  MP^  J__I_M-M__M^^   ■■_ 

&ct,  that  I  cannot  follow  them  with  the  eye,  though  that  Ls  no  criterion 
for  you,  as  I  am  a  little  near-sighted  myself.  Bet,  gentlemen !  he  who 
has'nt  the  heart  to  bet,  has'nt  the  heart  to  win.  Faint  heart  never  won 
&ir  lady.     Who,  gentlemen,  can  turn  the  jack  V^ 

Nobody  seemed  indlined  to  venture  at  first,  but  finally  a  corpulent, 
dignified  looking  gentleman,  whom  I  had  remarked  before,  as  possess- 
ing a  very  benevolent  coimtenance,  and  who  had  been  watching  the 
cards  attentively  ,ofrered  to  bet  seventy-five  dollars.  His  offer  was  imme- 
diately accepted,  and  he  drew  the  amount  in  gold  fix>m  a  well  filled 
purse,  and,  depositing  it  on  the  table,  with  many  seeming  misgivings 
as  to  the  propriety  of  the  act,  turned  over,  with  a  nervous  hand,  the 
card  upon  which  his  eye  was  fixed.  It  was  the  eight  spot  When  he 
aftw  the  face  of  the  card,  he  made  an  impulsive  movement  toward  the 
■aoney,  as  though  he  would  snatch  it,  but  drew  back,  and  saw  it  raked 
in  with  a  sigh  that  seemed  to  come  firom  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  and 
tell  of  better  resolutions  for  the  future.  His  misfortune,  however,  only 
excited  the  zeal  of  those  who  stood  around,  as'  he  had  turned  his  card 
contrary  to  their  advice,  and  lost,  while  the  one  they  pointed  out  pro- 
Ted,  ^  usual,  to  be  the  jack. 

Encouraged  by  this  circumstance,  a  tall,  clerical  looking  gentleman 
in  black,  with  a  white  cravat,  v^tured  twenty-five  dollars,  and  won. 
Seizing  his  money  with  a  nervous  grasp,  he  made  for  the  open  air  with 
all  ipeed,  seemingly  to  cool  off  his  excitement.  The  benevolent  gen- 
tleman now  risked  fifty  dollars,  and  won.  A  tall,  youpg  New  Yorker, 
who  was  on  his  travels,  and  who  looked  as  though  he  ought  to  have 
known  the  "  ropes  "  better,  staked  fifty  dollars,  and  lost  it.  An  Iowa 
horse-dealer  disposed  of  the  proceeds  of  his  last  drove  in  the  same 
way,  and  another  personage,  who  thought  he  knew  all  about  the  game, 
made  way  with  a  hundred  dollars  and  his  gold  watch.  Various  other 
bets  were  made,  but  nobody  won,  except  the  gent  who  sported  the 
benevolent  countenance,  and  him  of  the  white  cravat.  But  the  mys- 
tery was  soon  solved,  for,  a  short  time  afler,  the  three  worthies,  the 
tonguey  little  man,  the  benevolent  man,  and  the  clerical  one,  might 
have  been  seen,  sohis^  upon  the  hurricane  deck,  dividing  their  ill-gotten 
gains. 

The  poor  Hawkeye,  who  had  lost  the  price  of  the  old  mare  he  had 
just  sold  in  Davenport,  not  only  found  himself  sixty  dollars  ont  of 
pocket,  but  '*  dead  broke,''  as  he  had  laid  down  seventy  instead  of  sixty 
dollars,  in  his  excitement,  the  extra  ten  being  all  he  had  reserved  to 
get  home  with,  in  case  he  happened  to  lose,  which  contingency,  how- 
eves,  he  did  not  in  the  least  anticipate.  Upon  representing  his  case  to 
the  professional  gentleman,  however,  that  personage,  without  any  fur- 


44  SKETCHES  OF  BORDER  LIFE. 

ther  questioning,  drew  a  ten  dollar  bill  from  his  pile,  and  tendered  it 
to  /him,  to  his  great  delight.  Then  drawing  out  another  ten,  he 
addressed  the  crowd  as  follows :  "  Now  then,  gentlemen,  money  is  like 
water  to  me.  It  comes  easy,  and  goes  easy.  If  there  is  any  other 
one  of  you  that  is  dead  broke,  got  no  money,  dephant  stepped  on  your 
pocket-book,  here's  a  ten  for  you,  and,  as  I  never  shall  see  you  again, 
all  tlie  payment  I  ask,  is,  that  when  you  find  some  poor  devil  in  the 
same  fix,  just  give  it  to  him.".  No  one  seemed  disposed  to  plead  their 
poverty,  however,  and  he  pocketed  the  money,  and  left  under  flying 
colors. 

It  was  not  easy  for  those  who  were  excited,  and  debating  in  their 
own  minds,  whether  to  bet  or  not,  to  mark  the  progress  of  the  game, 
but  to  one  who  felt  entirely  disinterested,  there  was  no  difficulty  in 
detecting  the  arts  by  which  the  gambler  won  the  money  when  he 
wished,  and  lost  at  the  proper  time.  At  first  the  game  was  all  &ir 
and  above  board,  and  any  one  who  had  bet  on  the  card  which  it  was 
perfectly  easy  to  trace,  would  have  won ;  but  there  presently  appeared 
upon  the  back  of  the  jack,  a  dark  spot,  very  small,  but  plainly  visible, 
and  which  seemed,  unaccountably,  to  escape  the  notice  of  the  gambler, 
probably  on  account  of  his  near-sightedness.  This  mark  entirely 
diverted  the  attention  of  the  crowd  fi*om  the  shuffling,  and  they  only 
sought  for  the  marked  card,  when  he  laid  them  down,  to  bet  their 
money  on  it.  But  his  keen  eyes  were  searching  their  countenances  in 
the  meantime,  and  when  he  saw  signs  of  a  bet,  he  gave  the  cards  a 
final  shuffle,  and  the  mark  was  to  be  found  upon  anything  but  the  ja<dL 
when  he  spread  them  out  again.  Of  course  the  bettor,  turning  the 
marked  card,  lost  his  money.  The  trap  was  then  set  for  the  next  cum- 
tomer,  and  sprung  in  like  manner. 

Leaving  them  to  their  ill-gotten  gains,  I  betook  myself  again  to  the 
deck,  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  boat  at  my  destined  stopping  place, 
which  was  to  be  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

We  glided  silently  and  swiftly  along  through  the  darkness,  the  shores 
being  indistinctly  visible,  and  presenting  only  a  dim  outline  of  woods 
and  hills.  Occasionally  an  ascending  boat  would  shoot  suddenly  into 
view  from  around  a  bend  in  the  river,  and,  with  a  hoarse  salute,  come 
rushing  on,  and  glance  by  with  a  roar  from  her  whistle,  and  a  blaze  of 
light  from  her  open  furnace  doors,  soon  disappearing  around  the  next 
bend.  Occasionally  a  variety  would  be  added  by  the  appearance  of 
what  is  called  in  that  country,  a  "  Kick  behind,"  which  is  a  boat  in  all 
respects  like  other  river  boats,  except  that  the  engines  and  wheel  are 
placed  in  the  stern,  the  latter  being  a  common  paddle  wheel,  extending 
clear  across  the  stem  of  the  boat,  which  is  square  and  straight  up  and 


RIVER  BOATS»— LANDING.  iS 

down.  No  wheel-house  being  used,  the  wheel  is  entirely  visible,  with 
a  crank  on  each  end,  and  the  connecting  rods  running  in  to  the  engines, 
while  no  less  than  three  rudders  are  required  for  steerage,  the  whole 
concern  presenting  very  much  the  appearance  of  a  leviathan  wheelbar* 
TOW,  going  backwards. 

Tlicse  uncouth  things^  loaded  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  tugging 
like  a  draught  horse  at  two  or  three  "  barges,^'  as  heavily  loaded  as 
themselves,  slowly  contend  with  the  current,  with  an  unceasing  pufi^ 
-paS,  puff,  and  conquer,  to  the  extent  of  about  three  miles  an  hour. 
Hie  passengers  meanwhile  are  seen  sitting  composedly  on  the  guards, 
with  their  heels  alofl,  and  cigars  in  their  mouths,  having  apparently 
made  up  their  minds  that  they  are  in  for  a  six  months  trip  at  least,  and 
to  feel  resigned  accordingly. 

The  river  boats  difier  from  the  lake  boats  in  many  particulars.  They 
oarry  two  engines,  of  the  high  pressure  order,  and  of  the  very 
roughest  construction,  and  the  boilers  are  placed  on  deck.  The  lower 
guard  is  defended  by  no  bulwark,  except  a  rail  about  six  inches  high, 
lihus  affording  every  fecility  for  any  one  to  step  or  tumble  off.  They 
lack  also  the  beautiful  symmetry  of  proportion,  and  graceful  sweep 
of  curve,  which  characterizes  those  fine  models  which  first  class  Lake 
boats  present.  They  are  built  with  flat  bottoms  and  round  bows,  and 
never  draw  ^ver  two  or  three  feet  of  water,  and,  in  consequence  of  the 
great  bulk  above  the  surface,  and  light  draught,  they  are  entirely  at 
the  mercy  of  the  winds,  and  a  gale  that  only  sets  a  sailor  on  his  sea- 
legs,  blows  them  fast  ashore,  and  they  have  no  choice  but  to  stick  in 
the  mud  till  the  weather  abates.  Take  them  altogether,  they  very  much 
resemble  the  old  "  Constitution"  and  "  De  Witt  Clinton,"  that  were 
not  thought  to  be  "  any  great  shakes,"  twenty  years  ago,  on  the  lakes. 

The  boat  arrived  at  my  lan<iing  place  about  an  hour  after  the  ap* 
pointed  time,  and,  as  she  steamed  away  down  the  river,  1  found  myself 
standing  in  the  lee  of  a  superanuated  building  that  had  once  done  duty 
as  a  warehouse,  now  left  to  the  bats  and  owls.  Around  stretched  an 
unbroken  wilderness,  the  only  signs  of  cultivation  being  a  log  cabin, 
with  a  small  frame  attached^  whose  owner  indicated  his  capacity  as 
landlord  by  a  swinging  sign-board,  on  which  ^ns  inscribed  the  word 
"  Inn,"  a  device  that  I  remembered  in  the  illustrations  of  my  juvenile 
picture  books,  but  which  I  had  never  met  with  before  in  the  reality.  I 
succeeded  by  dint  of  hard  labor,  in  carry  in  c^  my  baggage  to  the  door ; 
nor  were  my  troubles  then  ended,  for  I  had  great  difficulty  in  carrying 
my  point  with  the  drowsy  landlord.  Afler  a  long  time,  however,  he 
presented  himself,  in  the  person  of  an  exceedingly  shabby  Frenchman, 
and  in  bad  humor,  growling  out  that  he  had  no  room  for  me. 


46  A  CRITIQUB. 


A   CRITIQUE 

ON  TRAVELS,  TRAVBLBX8  AND  THIIR  RBADSR8. 


Entertain  no  fears  of  monotony  or  of  surfeit  from  the  multiplication 
of  travels..  True,  a  traveler  may  be  a  blockhead  as  wdl — ^may  be 
dull  and  prosy,  may  be  wanting  in  observation^  in  judgment,  or  in 
description,  and  thus  fail  to  interest  and  instruct. 

Leaving  all  such  out  of  the  account,  we  say  again,  entertain  no  fears 
of  monotony  or  of  surfeit  Even  the  few,  who  think  themselves  as 
&milar  with  the  institutions,  manners  and  customs  of  a  country,  as 
with  the  lessons  of  childhood,  are  often  taken  aback  by  the  recitals  of 
the  last  traveler.  The  truth  is,  while  they  have  been  dozing,tli6  spirit 
of  improvement  has  been  abroad,  waking  up  the  nations  from  the  slum- 
ber of  ages,  and  working  out  changes  upon  which  they  lifl  up  their  eyes 
with  surprise,  as  from  a  Rip  Van  Winkle  nap. 

But  this  is  not  all,  nor  half.  Such  a  field  of  investigation — ^who  can 
enter  it  without  bewilderment  1  Literally  innumerable  are  the  objects 
which  throng  upon  the  traveler's  attention  in  foreign  lands.  If  he  be 
a  man  of  purpose,  he  will  select  a  few  of  the  most  congenial,  on  which 
to  bestow  his  regards.  It  is  quite  possible,  that,  of  the  scores  of 
tourists  who  may  be  threading  the.thorough&res  of  a  country  at  the 
same  time,  no  two  of  them  will  be  engrossed  by  the  same  objects 
mainfy^  and  if  some  single  object  should  perchance  command  the  at- 
tention of  them  all  alike,  the  chances  are,  greatly ^  that  each  one  would 
view  it  in  a  different  light ;  and,  indeed,  this  is  as  much  a  matter  of 
course,  as  that  each  has  his  own  peculiar  idiosyncrasy.  And  hence  it 
results,  not  only  that  the  objects  which  share  the  attention  of  different 
travelers,  but  that  the  casts  of  thought,  which  the  same  object  impresses 
upon  their  minds  individually,  are  very  likely  to  be  as  diversified  as  the 
colors  of  the  kaleidoscope. 

For  instance,  there  is  the  philosophic  traveler,  who  dives  deep,  and 
brings  yp  "  goodly  pearls,*'  and  the  superficial  traveler,  who  plays 
with  the  bubbles  on  the  surface— the  utilitarian  traveler,  with  his 
everlasting  cui  bono,  (what  good  7)  and  the  latitudtharian  traveler,  who 
dashes  off  his  descriptions  as  indifferently  as  his  pen  sheds  the  ink — the 
husky  traveler,  who  gives  you  the  shell  without  the  kernel,  and  the 
piquant  traveler,  who  gives  you  the  kernel  without  the  shell — ^the 
phlegmatic  traveler,  who  leaves  feeling  to  children,  and  the  sentimental 
traveler,  who  is  put  into  raptures  at  every  turn — ^the  censorious  traveler, 
who  sees  little  to  commend,  and  the  amiable  traveler,  who  sees 


A  GSmQUB.  4T 


nothing  to  oondemn — ^the  incredulous  traveler,  who  believes  nothing, 
and  the  credulous  traveler,  who  believes  everything — the  sublimated 
traveler,  who  is  above  you,  and  the  plodding  traveler  who  is  be* 
neath  you — ^tihe  egotistic  traveler  who  disgusts  you,the/rtvo^t>ti«  traveler, 
'who  vexes  you,  and  the  common  sense  traveler,  who  edifies  and 
instructs  you. 

And  yet,  we  have  scarcely  begun  the  classification.  And  in  each  of 
these  almost  innumerable  general  classes,  there  are  divisions  and  sub- 
divisicxis,  running  out  into  diversifications  so  minute,  as  to  ex^bit  each 
individual  traveler  isolated  and  alone,  having,  as  it  respects  others, 
more  points  of  difference  than  of  resemblance.  And,  as  the  tree  pro- 
duces  its  kind,  so  does  the  tourist. 

It  is  quite  too  much  to  expect  of  the  traveler,  that,  in  becoming 
such,  he  will  put  off  the  man,  and  put  on  the  angel.  His  strong  points 
and  his  weak  points  ^re  stamped  into  his  very  being,  and  travel  with 
him,  prompting  his  tongue  when  he  speaks,  and  his  pen  when  he  writes. 

It  need  not  take  one  long  to  learn  the  weak  points  of  a  traveler,  for 
he  will  be  sure  to  show  himself.  The  very  excitement  of  travel,  like  an 
exhilarating  gas,  will  bring  him  out,and  make  him  as  garrulous  as  a  bull- 
findi.  If  you  follow  him  closely,  you  will  soon  discover  all  his  leanings, 
this  way  and  that,  and,  if  you  are  a  man  of  sense,  you  can  right  him, 
here  and  there,  as  you  go  along. 

But,  however  subject  the  narrations  of  travelers  may  be  to  these 
little  deductions,  and  however  diverse  from  each  other,  it  may  fairly 
enough  be  supposed,  that  they  record  what  is  honestly  conceived  to  be 
the  truth,  nay,  what  is  actuality  the Jruth^  with  these  little  discounts. 
And,  if  each  one  records  new  and  diflerent  truth,or  the  same  truth  under 
a  different  aspect,  and  thus  serves  up  a  fresh  repast,  he  may  well  enough 
be  fbigiven  the  slight  deviations  to  which  his  weakne^es  expose  him. 

Undoubtedly  one  tourist  may  store  his  pages  with  vastly  more  truth 
than  anotiier,  and  truth  too,  vastly  more  important— K>r,  it  may  seem  so 
to  you,  while  to  another  the  very  reverse  may  seem  to  be  the  fact.  Is 
it  true  then,  that  there  is  as  radical  a  difference  in  readers,  as*in  tourists 
themselves — ^that  readers  too  have  their  weaknesses  ?  Verily,  so  it 
would  seem,  for  they  need  as  much  indulgence  from  each  other,  and  from 
the  tourist  himself,  as  the  latter  does  from  them ;  but  this  is  a  positive 
blessing,  and  ail  together  should  rejoice  in  these  ^  diversities  of  gifls,^' 
if  there  be  but  *'  the  same  spirit'^  of  truth  and  of  mutual  forbearance  to 
temper  them.     They  are  the  spice  of  travel. 


48  OUB  OWN  AFFAUta 


A   WORD   TO   OUR  FRIENDS. 


3%08e  to  wlMun  this  our  first  STumber  is  sent,  without  being  ordered,  ar« 
friends  upon  wh<«n  we  rely  with  confidence,  to  co-operate  with  those  already 
in  the  field,  in  getting  up  clubs,  and  we  doubt  not  they  .will  doit,  either 
penonally  or  by  prasDy,  The  premiums  we  offer,  may  be  regarded  as  liberal, 
the  lowest  consisting  in  a  copy  of  the  work  for  every  eight  subscribers.  Thus 
every  one  is  secured  against  the  loss  of  his  time,  with  a  chance  fbr  some- 
thing better. 

The  encouragement  we  hare  ahready  received,  has  stamped  pemw&eaM 
upon  ihe  work,  and  we  have  made  otnr  arrangements  accordingly.  We  re- 
joice in  being  able  to  send  out  this  assurance  with  our  first  number.  Bm^ 
that  we  may  graduate  the  extent  of  our  edition  for  the  year,  our  friends  will 
greatly  •blige  us  by  making  their  first  remittanee  of  ^names  at  their  earliest 
convenience,  with  an  estimate  of  the  additional  number  they  will  probably 
be  able  to  send.-'  In  so  doing,  they  may  save  us  a  great  deal  of  trouble  and 
expense. 

We  have  adopted  the  advance  pay  system,  fromihe  deeply  wrought  eon- 
viction,  that  it  is  best  both  for  subscriber  and  publisher — ^best  for  the  sub- 
scriber, because  he  gets  the  work  a  hundred  per  cent  the  eheaper  for  it — aa4 
best  for  the  publisher,  because  he  gets  his  money,  and  gets  it  too  when  ha 
seeds  it  Uuder  the  old  credit  system,  the  prompt  pay  subscriber  does  wkift 
is  equivalent  to  footing  the  bill  of  his  delinquent  neighbor.  There  are 
Magazines  no  larger  than  pur  own,  and  no  better  got  up,  whose  subscription 
price  is  two  dollars  a  year.  This  very  low  figure  in  price,  is  based, of  course^ 
upon  the  assurance  of  a  large  subscription.  And  now,  if  you  like  it,  will 
you  not  send  back  to  us  in  return  that  most  pleasant  of  all  responses  to 
editors  and  publishers,  a  list  of  names,  with  the  appropriate  accompaniment  T 
If  wo  have  contributed  any  thing  to  your  enjoyment,  the  least  you  can  do  is 
ts  wish  us  "  a  Happy  new  year^^^  in  this  substantial  form. 

If  any  are  destitute  of  a  Prospectus,  they  will  find  one  upon  the  cover, 
and,  what  is  better,  they  have  the  work  itself.  There  will  doubtless  be 
here  and  there  one,  who  wUl  want  a  very  short  indulgence,  and  agents  will- 
ing to  take  the  responsibility  o'h  themselves,  will  of  course  send  their  names. 


The  size  of  our  page  is  larger  than  we  contemplated  when  we  issued 
our  prospectus.  A  volume  of  twelve  numbers  will  contain  more  matter,  all 
original,  than  three  ordinary  sized  one  dollar  books.  Of  the  valtie  of  it$ 
contents^  as  compared  "with  the  trio,  we  leave  the  reader  to  judge.  The 
paper  ^e  use,  is  the  best  that  can  be  procured  in  the  state  at  this  time. 

As  will  be  seen,  competitors  for  premiums,  have  all  the  time  they  ask. 
Names  are  coming  in  apace. 


^^m  0f  Crabel, 


z 

VOL.  L]  FEBRUARY,  1867.  [NO.  J. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL 

BT  BST.  OBO.  DCrmU»,  0.  D. 


GHAPTEB  n. 

XofMUfar, — ChrUOe, — Appearante  of  Ihe  CbiMi^,— >CM  and  Pwi  rBgitm^ — Mtt"  ) 
•  «ii0w  fo«fta  Ctoi{  Sngineerf — FMey;  Usaon  ai  a  Bone  JSom^ — Qkigo^;  iit  \ 
f  OaOtedrai;  ita  NecrgpoUa ;  iia  ffousea,  and Ua Briffot  Street 

August  2&th.  The  next  tovq^  of  note  was  LanoMter,  ntuAted  in  th» 
midrt  of  a  country  remarkable  in  piotureaque  appearance,  rolling  chtf  . 
aeter  of  the  land,  and  rich  productive  toil,  resembling  Lancaster, 
PtmiaylTania.     East  of  the  town  so  called,  a  large,  old  churdi  stands 
upon  the  top  of  a  sloping  hill,  with  grave-yard  in  front,  rinng  as  it 
were  in  terraces,  and  making  a  fine  appearance.    Hie  town  itsdif  lies 
chiefly  on  the  sides  of  two  lulls,  and  in  the  valley  between.    Hie  conn*  * 
try  northeast  of  Lancaster  is  very  fertile  and  beautifiil.    Penrith  lies  . 
east  of  Lancaster,  and  is  a  town  of  aome  note.    Upon  the  summit  of 
a  hill  to  the  south  of  the  road,  are  the  ruins  of  Arnold  Oasde,  bearing  . 
that  name.    The  country,  as  you  approach  Carlisle,  spreads  out  into  ft 
wider  valley,  and  the  hills  bounding  it  become  bolder,  and  more  dis- 
tinody  rising  Kke  mountains,  whose  curvilinear  summits  can  be  trioed  i 
to  a  great  distance.*   The  intervening  land  is  not  so  hilly,  nor  the  hills  r 
so  jnoturesqucy  as  near  Lancaster ;   but,  nevertheless,  very  beautifuly 
and  resembling  mndi  the  appearance  of  Cumberland  valley  in  Peon- 
sylvania,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  town  of  Carlisle.    The  houses  in  Laa-  ^ 
caster  are  mostly  built  of  brick^--those  in  Carlisle  oi  stone,  and  botii  * 
ar6  quite  oompaot*-*-in  these  respects  resembling  their  American  imi 
taticns.    Soon  asfber  this  we  entered  Scotland,  passing  by  the  &moas< 
Gretna  Green,  so  well  known  for  its  aoccMnmodation  for  runaway  « 
mattfaes..    England  and  Scotland  are  here  divided  by  a  small  stream*  > 

Hie  hills  rise  more  precipitously  and  loftily,  as  you  travel  north,  ■ 
and  the  valleys  contract  in  width,  sometimes  becoming  ravines.  Diartt  i 
arano  trees  upon  the  sides  and  sunmiita  of  the  hiDs}  but  where  they  * 

D  / 


/ 


50  NOTES  0?  FOBEIGN  TRAVEL. 

are  too  rough  and  ru^ed  for  cultivation,  the  heather  is  found  iu  groftt 
abundance.  It  was  in  fuU  bloom  as  I  passed,  and  the  light  purple  hue 
it  gate  the  moor,  was  particularly  pleasant  to  the  eye.  The  grouse, 
BO  much  thought  of  in  Scotland,  live  upon  it,  and  are  foittid  in  places  in 
great  numbers.  From  this  time,  for  two  months  to  come,  the  sports- 
men will  be  busy  in  pursuit  of  it.  In  England  the  sporting  season 
doea^not  comm^ice  till  the  first  proximo. 

The  road  led  through  an  extensive  coal  and  iron  region.  After  it 
became  dark,  the  lights  of  numerous  furnaces  near  the  road  and  &r- 
ther  removed,  frequently  illuminated  our  way.  Much  of  the  railroad 
iron  shipped  to  the  United  States,  I  was  told,  was  manu6ctured  iji  this 
region.  The  fiimaces  are  constructed  very  differently  from  ours,  in 
which  the  oar  is  fluxed  by  the  aid  of  ignited  charcoal.  Hiey  are  made 
after  die  fashion  of  the  common  glass  furnaces^  and  are  oiten  strung 
aloqgin  rows  or  atreetSy.in  great  nmnbers,  and  are  tapped  as  the  pots 
fill.  The  coal  is  coked  befbre  being  put  with  Ae  ore  into  the  fbrnace, 
and  the  smoke  created,  in  their  vicinity,  is  so  dense  and  black  as  sensi- 
bly to  «&ot  the  atmaqphere.  ^ 

-A  very  intelligeint  gentleman,  who  I  learned  was  a  dvil  engineer, 
and  "wko  travded  with  me  to  Glasgow,  gave  me  mndi  information 
oonosniing  viarious  matters  in  England  and  Scotland.  He  inquired 
with  deep  interest  and  cariosity,  about  numy  things  in  the  nnited 
SiHtos,  when  he  learned  I  was  fiYxn  there.  He  resides' in  Gla^;ow, 
aad  had  been  up  to  London  for  a  two^ld  purpose:  <me  was  to  effeot 
a  oonsblidfldon  of  the  raOnnd  interests,  in  order  to  render  them  more 
ganrally  end  equally  lucrative.  At  present  the  nilroad  oompaaiaa 
am'wwring  among  themselves,  and  notwittntanding  their  hij^  rates  of 
toUi  the  beet  of  them,  it  is  said,  divide  no  more  t^an  from  three  to 
fo«r  per  osnt^  and  some  do  no  more  than  pay  the  interest  due  to  bond* 
holders.  He  ¥Fas  anxious  also  to  effisot  an  arrmmeaaent  witii  the  ccnh 
taaMal  n^boads,  which  ^i^euld  turn  the  current  of  European  emigsa* 
tioB,  by  way  of  Gkngow  through  Scotland,  and  prevent  the  formation 
of  Qompenies  and  the  buUding  of  steam  vessels  for  a  direct  oommuni* 
oatioa  between  Marseilles  and  the  United  States.  In  speaking  on  tlie 
ffiftrenoe  between  the  religious  influ^oiee  and  systems  of  England  and 
Scbtlaad,  he  sudd,  there  was  fiur  more  of  the  democratic  spirit  in  Scot- 
land, and  less  of  reapeob  for  derieal  authority.  The  English  cleq^^ 
he  remarked,  somehow  succeeded  in  making  ^e  young  people  of  tinir 
changes,  respect  diem  much  moore  than  did  the  Soottlrii ministry.  He 
had  Vnde  Tom'e  Gabin  in  hie  portfolio,  which  he  had  read  with  deet> 
iufessflit,  aadtfolt  omioos  to  know  the  name  and  character  of  the  author, 
and  ^Aat  efe(%  it  had  produced  in  the  United  States,  particularly  ait 
the  South. 


A  una  WITH  vmmxBB  avb  racsbs.  si 

I  reMhed  Glaigow  a  little  after  ten  o'dook  at  nij^t,  aad  took  lodg> 
ings  at  tbe  Queen's  Hotel,  on  George  Square.  The  kind  care  of  Pio> 
Tidenoe  has  preeerred  from  all  aooidente  or  anything  unpleasant 

Ait^usi  26ik  I  was  quite  disi^ppointed  to^laj,  in  calling  at  the  office 
of  the  friend  I  had  eome  to  yiaiti  to  find  that  he  mm  out  of  town,  as 
were  also  all  others  whom  I  had  hoped  to  see.  It  is  the  period  when 
all  who  can  get  away,  are  disposed  to  take  a  little  reereataon  and  rislt 
the  difieient  watering  plaoea.  The  day  was  dear  and  fine,  and  seeing 
an  omnibus  bearii^  the  advertisement,  '^Od  to  Paisley,'*  I  thought  V 
would  enter  it^  but  it  was  filled  with  people  inside  and  out  Hanng 
paawd  aome  distance  forward^  I  met  another  standing  near  the  depot 
I  jnoonted.on  top^  and  it  was  soon  laden  to  the  utmost  Presently  I 
found  myself  in  the  midst  of  merry  Scotchmen,  full  of  fim  and  frolie^ 
on  their  way  to  the  races.  They  managed  to  call  iq»  a  traveling  fid> 
dler,  and  kept  him  twanging  and  aon^ing  Us  stringi^  playing  jigs  and 
g^ees,  all  the  way.  Three  boys  of  di&rent  sise,  started  to  ran  wiA 
the  omnibus,  and  by  the  excitement  of  the  ocoanon  and  dieen  of  the 
passengers,  and  as  I  found  atlast^  the  expectation  of  jeward,  they  aotu- 
ally  kqpt  up  with  the  vehide  the  whole  distance  of  seven  miles.  I 
pitied  the  poor  fellows,  who  were  all  glowing  with  iMSt;  bnt  diey 
aaemcd  quite  pleased,  when  die  coppers  collected  firom  the  passcngecs 
bt  die  fiddler  and  the  racers,  were.distributed^  The  road  was  lined 
with  carriages  of  all  sorts,  and  foot  passengers  ia  great  numbers,  gci^( 
to '^the  races.''  ItseemedtobeaaoeneendaeaacDof  gensimlaMle* 
ilMUt  I  regretted  for  a  moment  that  I  had^Dtered  the  coaoh;  bntdis 
aseaeiy  and  dwellings,  every  where  appearmg,  were  so  besnliidy  thai 
I.beeame  absorbed  in  behdding  the  rich  paaorama.ihat  passed  befeve 
ifff  view.  The  omnibus  drove  throiigli  the  town,  and  amlle  beyond 
it»  where,  with  tweiMy  or  thirty  others,  I  was  landed  on  the  raoa 
g^onnd.  ^  Xh^re  had  been  a  race  an  honr  belhre,  and  andther  wai 
eqiectedin.ashorttime^  At  first  I  felt  quite  sad,  and  reprdaehed' 
xi^sdf  for  an  instant  in  yielding  to  the  impulse  togoto  Paidey,idlli. 
out  knowing*  what  was  to  be  dimei  But  it  ocourred  to  me,  you  will 
sseSootiaia  her  frolics;  peas  through  die  crowds,  look,  hear,  mA 
i^y  the  devdopmants  of  charaoter  yon  may  witness,  aad  tiMtt  with* 
draw  belbre  the  races  re-commence.    I  did  so. 

Uieground  was  covered  with  booths,  wagons,  csrts  of  varioiK  des> 
captions,  soaflc^dings  to  let  for  the  easier  view  of  the  races,  and  ereifds' 

of  people,  llier^  were  firints  dragged  aroand  in  band-carts,  and  carte 
with  donkies,  which  I  find  are  quite  cammen^  both  hare  and  inliveiw. 
po^  All  scrts  of  ones  were  to  be  heeBA-^''hadfe  a  ji^  o'  gooaeheru: 
liaaforafaattbee;  apoond  o^  pears  for  twa  pence,  or  haslfe  a  poond. 


52  NOTES  OF  FOREXOK  TRAVEL. 

for  a  peimjr " — and  similar  noisy  advertisements.  The  Scotch  dialect 
sounded  pleasant  to  my  ears  and  quite  IfaMiliar.  'Every  where  I  saw 
resemblances  in  person,  feature  and  expression  of  countenance,  to  peo- 
ple I  had  often  seen,  making  me  to  start,  and  inwardly  think  I 
have  surely  met  this  one  and  the  othisr  before.  Hie  same  thing  I  had 
also  notioied  in  Liverpool,  but  it  was  -only  one  of  those'  strong  &ct8 
'which  seem  to  show,  that  there  ore  varieties  of  fiunilies  and  forms,  and 
peculiarities  of  feature,  propagated  from  generation  txr  generation  in 
the  same  races,  proving  the  same  general  and  remarkable  agreement^ 
which  the  &oe  of  society  presents  in  the  parent  country  and  in  our 
own.  The  same  names  and  feces,  and  personal  forms,  continually 
meefting  me,  I  can  scarcely  feel  that  I  am  in  a  foreign  land.  I  suppose 
there  was  drinking  in  the  booths,  for  1  saw  crowds  in  and  around, 
where,  as  I  guessed,  by  the  bottles,  they  were  retailing  intoxicating 
liquors.  I  did  not  enter  or  apprca<^  them,  but  took  a  turn  or  two 
among  the  scattered  crowds.  I  was  pleased,  however,  to  be  able  to 
say*)  that  I  saw  not  one  person  intoxicated  until  I  was  returning  into 
the  town,  where  I  met  a  poor  woman  holding  on  to  the  arm  of  her 
husband,  as  I  supposed,  and  trying  to  prevent  him  from  going  forward, 
but  he  would  look  smilingly  at  her,  and  putting  her  arm'  under  his 
own,  pall  her  forward  till  she  would  step  before  him,  and  try  to  inter- 
cept his  way.  *  My  heart  sickened  at  the  sight  of  this  domestic  wretdK' 
e^iess.  Alas !  what  a  corse  upon  man,  and  especially  the  poor  man,' 
is  intOKicating  drink !  The  drinking  I  see  in  this  country,  prevalent 
among  all  sorts  of  people,  fills  me  with  surprise;  In  all  the  hotehi 
wines  of  various  sorts,  and  brandy,  are  Constantly  called  for  by  every* 
aoby  whether  he  aits  down  to  a  table  by  himself,  or  witji  two  or  three 
aequaintances.  Ibe  poorer  classes  indulge  in  ale  and  beer,  and  yet|' 
wiliiBl,  I  have  not  seen  anythmg  of  the  staggering,  wallowing  kitozioa^' 
tion;  v^ikh  I  have  so  ic^n  witnessed  in  Detroit,  and  other  citi^  in  the 
United  States,  among  the  low  a^nd  degraded.  It  would  relieve  the 
working  daasas  here  greatly,  if  they  would  give  up  their  ale  and  beer, 
and  other  liqvors,  which  their  moderate  wages  cannot  wdl  enable  tbem 
to  obtain.  I  saw  no  broUs,  heard  no  railery,  nor  witneMed  any  angry 
or  uproarious  proceedings.  The  races,  I  understood,  were  conducted 
by  certain  of  the  gentry,  who  were  trying  the  speed  of  the  creatures 
t^y  bad  themselves  bred,  and  which  t^ey  were  offering  for  sale  at 
hours  advertised.  None  were  allowed  to  entfir  their  horses  for  the 
race  but  those  who  had  actually  bredand  owned  them.  Hiis  was  given 
to  me  as  an  excuse,  if  not  partial  justifioation,  of  the  whole  procedure, 
by  a  gentleman  afterward,  with  whom  I  conversed,  and  to  whom  I 
made  my  objections  against  the  whole  thing.    ^  As  for  betting,"  said 


PAISUST  AND  THB  RAOS&  53 

^^»*-  ^^——  '  ■!■■■■■  I  t,m 

ke,  ^  men  will  do  that  at  any  and  every  opportunity ;  you  cannot  lielp 
it**  Hie  loss  of  time  and  laborious  industry,  the  imshipping  of  daily 
habits  of  application,  the  wild  excitement^  the  waste  of  money,  and 
tihe  increase  and  power  of  temptations,  &c.,  however,  are  a  sufficient 
ocmdenmation,  and  far  more  than  counterbalance  any  gain  to  be  had 
from  the  improvement  of  the  breed  of  horses.  I  tarried  on  the  ground 
aome  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  and  then  took  a  cab  for  the  town,  before 
tihe  see(Mid  heat  of  the  races  commenced.  Paisley  is  an  old  and  rather 
dirty  looking  town.  Like  all  others,  both  in  this  country  and  England, 
that  I  have  yet  seen,  there  are  no  trees  planted  on  the  streets  before 
the  houses.  Occasionally,  some  may  be  seen  in  the  yards,  which  are 
very  smaU,  or  in  the  parks  or  small  enclosures  in  the  centre  of  their 
crescents,  or  along  the  margins  of  their  terraces.  Even  the  fiirm-houses 
are  almost  unprotected  from  the  sun  by  trees.  But  perhaps  they  are 
not  needed,  for  he  does  not  here  seem  to  pour  down  his  scalding  beams, 
with  the  fiercenessj  and- melting  power,  he  often  does  in  the  United 
States. 

The  rail  road,  as  it  enters  Paisley  and  passes'through it, runs  nearly 
on  a  level  with  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  the  town  lying  on  the  mai^in 
of  the  River  Clyde,  and  the  sides  of  the  adjacent  hills.  An  inmiense 
and  lofty  bridge  forms  a  viaduct  for  the  cars,  not  only  through  the 
town,  but  over  the  river ;  and  affords  a  fine  opportunity  for  lookii^ 
over  the  whole  place.  You  purchase  your  ticket  below,  and  ascend  a 
long  flight  of  stairs  which  brings  you  up  to  the  station,  the  streets  pas- 
sing under  the  road,  and  the  lofty  archways  by  which  it  is  sustained. 
The  jail  towers  up  from  the  stream,  on  one  side,  immediately  adjoin- 
ing the  station,  and  the  court  house  on  the  other.  The  houses  are  near- 
ly all  built  of  stone,  and  covered  with  tiles  the  color  of  burnt  brick. 
Soine  of  the  low. and  more  ancient  cottages  are  covered  with  roofs  of 
thatched  straw.  Coal  universally  is  burned,  which  renders  the  danger 
of  fire  less.  As  I  returned  in  the  cars,  1  mused  on  all  1  had  seen,  and 
thought  how  easily  an  incident,  of  a  perfectly  innocent  or  indifferent 
liature,  might  be  maliciously  pervei*ted  to  the  injury  of  any  man's  rep- 
utation, whatever  might  be  his  character.  "  How  would  it  sound," 
thought  I ,  "  and  what  mali^;naut  use  might  enemies  make  of  it,  were 
the  illnatured  slanderer  but  to  state  the  simple  fact,  that  almost  the 
first  thing  I  did,  upon  getting  into  Scotland,  was  to  go  to  the  Paisley 
race  course."  Not  a  few  of  my  fellow-countrymen,  ministers  of  the 
gospel,  have  in  this  way,  been  severely  slandered  and  seriously  abused, 

August  27th.  Spent  the  morning  in  visiting  the  Cathedral  and 
Necropolis,  which  latter  is  on  the  side  of  a  steep  and  lofty  hill,  while 
that  of  Liverpool  lies  deep  in  an  excavated  hollow.    The  cathedral  dad- 


64  KOTOS  OF  FORHOK  TRATRL 

ieated  to  the  memory  of  St  Mmigo— 4lie  old  monk  that  planted  himietf 
down  first  on  the  spot  where  it  is  erected,  and  drew  the  wondering  and 
BQperstitious  around  him,  attracted  by  the  fiun^  of  his  piety — is  one  of 
the  few  ancient  places  of  idolatrous  worship,  which  escaped  the  destroy- 
ing hand  of  the  Scottish  reformers.  It  is  situated  cm  a  sloping  hill  on 
the  west  side  of  a  deep  ravine,  and  consLsts  of  a  nave  and  a  choir,  wiA 
IranaeptB,  and  aisles,  and  a  crypt  of  ancient  structure.  The  choir 
only  is  used  as  a  place  of  worslnp.  On  asking  the  man  that  led  me 
Huroughit,  if  there  was  an  organ  in  it,  he  quiddy  replied,  ^^Nae,  nae, 
H  Is  die  established  kirk  worships  here ;  we  ha'  nae  oi^ana — there  was 
one  once,  but  it  was  destroyed.''  In  the  aisles  of  the  choir  I  noticed 
Bome  tombs  and  entablatures,  and  also  in  the  crypt  That  which  main- 
ly attracted  my  attention  was  the  tomb  and  entablatures  of  Arch- 
bishop Law,  bearing  date  A.  D.  1642,  with  the  following  Latin  inscrip- 
tion:— 

Sftt  TlJd  qiDia  Bon  oorpm 
Sine  peetore  rizl 
Ml  cnne  Chrtetoi  jrell, 
6io  qotf  Alii. 

and  the  aphorisms: — 

OnoibiM  ealoonda  Tia  eit  nortalllmt 

atqiw 
Calcat  Mm  Chilaki  wtb  dnoe  nlnu  eril 


The  inscription  on  the  main  entablature  was  so  much  injured,  and 
de&ced  by  violence  and  blows,  as  to  be  illegible. 

In  the  centre  of  the  main  crypt,  b^ieath  the  choir,  is  the  tomb  of  St 
Mungo,  which  is  a  slab  or  two,  elevated  above  the  floor,  on  the  centre 
of  which  lies  the  sculptured  figure  of  the  saint,  with  mutilated  head; 
and  firom  the  four,  ends,  arise,  at  a  little  distance  from  it,  four  columns,, 
representing  arches ;  centering  in  the  main  arch,  and  forming  a  canopy 
of  stone  work. 

This  Gathedral  has  no  extended  transepts,  but  only  the  nave  4aid 
aisles,  north  and  south,  interrupted  by  lofly  windows  adjoining  tim 
choir,  on  either  side  of  which  are  gates  and  steps  leading  down  to  tlift 
crypt  Attached  to  the  northeast  comer  of  the  building  is  a  diapel, 
called  the  ladies  chapel,  and  another  to  the  east  end  of  the  mun  build* 

IDg. 

Leaving  the  Gathedral  and  the  slabs  covering  the  ground  around  it, 
I  passed,  by  a  massy  bridge,  to  the  eastern  and  precipitous  ade,  whidi 
has  been  appropriated  as  a  place  of  interment,  and  is  called  the  Necrop- 
oiis,  or  city  of  the  dead.  Tlie  hill  is  very  high  and  steep ;  walks  are 
eat  out,  and  wind  up  its  side  in  terraces,  the  intermediate  spaces  being 
l^ropriated  for  vaults,  tombs,  and  graves.  I  observed  but  from  four  to 
six  feet  in  In-eadth  was  all  the  space  allotted  to  a  fiunily,  and  that  it  is 
emrtomary,  at  every  interment,  to  take  up  the  body  last  hurried,  and 


GLASGOW,— ITS  CEICETBET,  Ac  65 

deposit  the  newly  dead  in  its  place,  the  more  ancient  heing  giT^i  its 
I^aoe  toward  the  top.  The  stones  stand  in  lines  almost  touching  each 
oy^r,  and  forming  and  resembling  an  irregular  sort  of  walls,  or  fenoas. 
On  t^  very  summit  of  the  hill,  and  rirang  aboye  the  comb  of  the  roof 
of  Ae  Cathedral  opposite,  are  placed  the  statue  and  monument,  erected 
at  public  expense,  to  the  memory  of  John  Knox,  and  the  reformen, 
Hamilton,  Kennedy,  Greo,  Wiehart,  Knox's  instnictor,  and  others.  This 
moinument,  raised  in  honor  of  the  reformation  in  Scotland,  bears  rsc- 
ml  of  its  ddef  ftcts  and  interesting  dates,  is  in  good  taste,  and  speaks 
well  lor  the  Protestantism  of  Glasgow.  A  massy  column  springs  up 
to  a  considerable  height,  from  a  heavy  pedestal,  and  on  the  top  of  the 
oolmnn  stands  Uie  statue  of  Knox,  looking  down,  as  it  were,  upon  the 
Galliedral  on  the  other  sida  Near  to  this  monument,  and  on  the  brow 
of  the  hill,  is  another,  and  quite  massy,  erected  to  the  memory  c^Mc- 
Ciftvin,  the  author  of  ^  The  Protestant,"  an  anti-Catholic  publication,  and 
not  fiu*  from  it  a  goigeous  mausoleum,  which  some  rich  man  has  erect- 
ed for  himself,  being  in  form  of  a  temple. 

Hie  houses  in  Glasgow  are  generally  built  of  a  very  fine  kind  of  fr^e- 
stcme,  a  quarry  of  which  adjoins  the  cemetery.  In  the  newer  parts  of 
ihe  dty,  streets  are  laid  out  in  the  form  of  crescents,  with  m  endosuia 
cultivated,  or  tastefully  planted  with  trees  in  the  middle.  Sometimes 
the  one  side  of  a  street  r»es  up  rapidly,  and  stands  upon  a  terraee, 
whfle  the  slope  to  the  lower  side,  is  planted  with  trees  and  shrubbery. 
There  has  been  an  observance  of  symmetry ,  and  of  ardiitectural  design 
and  taste,  in  the  construction  of  ranges  of  houses,  for  private  residenee 
or  renting,  so  as  to  assume  the  i^pearance  of  different  pallaces.  Dif- 
faent  stones  are  appropriated,  also,  as  difierent  dwellings,  there  being 
%  common  flight  of  stairs  immediately  on  entering  the  door  from  the 
street.  A  parlor,  dining-room,  two  or  more  chambers,  a  hall,  a  kitchen, 
a  water-closet,  and  all  the  conveniences  necessary,  will  be  found  con- 
veniently arranged,  all  on  the  same  floor,  and  rented  as  a  separate  dwell- 
ing to  each  family,  lliey  are  all  called  ^^  flats,"  and  the  entrance-way 
^doses.''  Habitations,  stately  and  conv^ent,  are  thus  afforded,  and 
at  moderately  dieap  rents,  there  being,  counting  basement  stories, 
sometimes  four  and  five  different "  flats,"  or  as  many  diflerent  donudls. 
If  the  door  of  the  '^  close"  is  shut,  you  ring  the  bell,  over  whose  knob 
IS  ^e  name  of  the  person  you  wish  to  see,  when  presently  it  is  answered 
1^  a  sound  within,  being  the  removfd  of  the  bolt  or  bar,  which  is  ac- 
complished by  a  servant  from  above,  by  means  of  i^pliances  on  each 
•♦flat." 

Hie  balance  of  the  day  I  spent  with  the  friends  I  had  hoped  to  see, 
and  who,  having  returned,  received  me  very  cordially.    After  dinnar, 


66  FOTBS  OF  FORBION  TBAVBL. 


about  7  o'clock  p.  m.,  Mr.  Br^dcm  took  me  to  aee,  as  he  said,  ^partsof 

■-  the  dtj  which  a  stranger  would  not  be  likely  to  visit."     He  led  me 

.  through  a  street  called  ^'  Brigot  street,'^  properly  bridge  gate,  the  word 

**  gaite  '*  being  understood  by  the  Scotch  as  the  equiyalent  for  road  or 

i  way.     It  lies  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  is  crooked,  narrow,  and  dirty; 

and  leads,  on  one  side,  from  the  Cathedral  to  the  bridge,  and  on  the 

other,  to  where  the  ancient  Bishop  had  built  his  palace.     Originally  it 

was  the  way  along  which  he  rode  to  the  Cathedral ;  and  the  first  bridge 

was  built  by  him.     Antiquated,  low-storied  houses,  with  gable  ends, 

and  old  fashioned  adornments,  were  pointed  out,  in  one  or  two  other 

places,  as  the  dwellings  of  the  ancient  nobility.    The  houses  on  this 

street  are  upwards  of  one  hundred  years  old,  built  of  stone,  with  low 

stories,  and  the  "  flats"  are  crammed  with  the  poorer  dassea  of  the 

people.    There  being  no  yards,  and  no  place  to  retire  to,  but  the  sti^t, 

'  the  inhabitants  throng  the  latter — ^men,  women  and  children,  standing 

•  or  walking  about,  and  filling  the  whole  of  the  narrow  way.  *'  Hereii^ 
sud  my  guide,  ''are  many  who  know  not  where  they  will  .sleep  to 
night,  or  get  their  next  meal."  The  women  seeined  to  abound,  and 
none  of  them  had  any  bonnet  or  covering  on  thdr  heads,  nor  shoes  or 
stockings  on  their  ftet  Policemen,  at  different  distances,  were  to  be 
seen  quietly  standing  or  moving  amongst  them,  and  allseemedin  good 

( humor,  to  be  pursuing  their  own  way,  or  loitering  about.  Groups  of 
.  girls  passed  along — ^but  in  all  my  walks  I  saw  no  one  drunk,  nor  heard 
>  any  noisy  outbreak;  nor  witnessed  any  tokens  of  wrath  and  quarrelling ; 
.'  ftor  heard  any  lascivious  or  lewd  or  profime  reoooirks,  (  which  Mr  B. ' 

said  was  quite  remarkable) ;  nor  witnessed  any  rude  behavior ;  nor  was 

flooosted  by  any  beggar,  or,  otherwise,  by  any  man  woman  or  child. 

The  most  disgusting  thing  I  saw  (but  in  perfect  keeping  widi  the  sur- 
/rounding  filth,)  was  of  a  girl  about  fifteen,  combing  her  head,  as  she 
-  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  with  a  fine  tooth  comb,  and  seeking 

with  murderous  thumb  to  rid  it  of  annoying  inhabitants. 

The  ancient  bridge  has  been  replaced  by  a  new  one.    The  town  of 

Glasgow  contains  many  very  fine  houses.      They  are  built  of  stone, 

•  with  walls  .very  thick,  fuU  eighteen  indies,  and  sometimes  more.  Like 
Liverpool,  its  chimneys  are  all  topped  and  manned  with  crocks  and  fim- 
nels,  one  to  each  separate  flue.  The  city  is  full  of  stir  ^id  business ; 
its  shipping  extensive;  its  harbor  good,  the  tide  below  the  bridge  rising 
and  fidling  six  to  seven  feet ;  and  factories  of  various  sorts  sending  up, 
through  their  tall  chimneys,  in  every  direction,  immense  colunms  of 
smoke.     There  is  here  one  of  the  tallest  chimneys  I  ever  saw,  and  said 

.  to  be  the  tallest  in  the  world.  It  seems  to  ascend  almost  to  the  douds. 
It  is  attached  to  some  chemical  establishment,  whose  owner  was  often 


BPINBUBC^H.  61 


inditod  for  a  niUBance,  by  reason  of  ofTenaiye  odors  and  unhealthy 
exhalationsi  producing  sickness  occasionally  around  amongst  the  neigh- 
borsy  -which  his  operations  disengaged.  The  tall  chimney  was  erected 
to  carry  themofi^  and  I  was  told,  that  at  a  distance  in  the  interior,  ihe 
health  of  the  inhabitants  is  perilled  by  the  vapors  that  are  wafted  from 
the  summit. 


CHAPTER  IV, 

r 

KiMunik,-^Th0  Old  and  New  Jbw%^The  Ca$ik,^^ofm  Knoos't  JBouBef^AUmd' 
mf  amrcht-^Vr.  Ouihne.-^Dr.  CandUskr-ywyms  CMrUie»,^Tork ;  ik  Mkh 
istBTj — SheffUHd^^PrcHXSs  of  making  Sietlf — l%e  heme  and  ihe  iamb  of  STuikspean: 

ft 

Auffusi  2Sth,    Left  .Glasgow  for  Edinburgh,  at  9  a.  m.,  and  reached 

'  there  about  II  30  a.  m.  The  country  is  very  beautiftd,  and  covered 
with  a  plenteous  harvest.  Visited  Mrs.  Duncan,  the  mother  of  Mary 
Lnndie  Duncan,  and  was  much  pleased  with  her  spirit  and  conversation. 
She  is  the  friend  of  my  friend  and  fellow  student,  Rev.  Mr.  Malliiaa 
Bruen,  long  since  deceased.  I  observed  both  his  bust  and  portrait  in 
her  parlor.  The  letters  I  had  recmved  from  him,  while  in  this  land;  had 
early  made  me  acquainted  with  her  excellent  character.  In  the  evening 
I  went  in  pursuit  of  a  brother  of  one  of  my  people.  My  way  to  his 
dwelling,  led  me  across  the  north  bridge,  into  High  street,  and  into  the 
older  part  of  the  city.  Tlie  west,  and  north-west  end  of  the  city  are  very 
splendid,  the  streets  being  built  after  the  manner  of  the  west  end  of 
Glasgow,  but  more  beautiful.  The  stone  used  in  building,  is  a  sand* 
stone  of  fine  texture,  resembling  the  Oolitic  rocks  of  England,  that 
crop  out  between  London  and  Bristol,  and  are  admirably  fitted  for 
building  pnrposes.    They  can  be  easily  got  out  of  the  quarry,  in  what> 

'  ever  size  they  ihay  be  wanted ;  are  so  soft,  at  first,  as  to  be  easily  cot 
wil^  a  knife,  and  chiseled  into  shape,  or  sawed  with  a  common  cross-cut 
saw,  but  when  exposed,  become  harder  and  harder  with  age.  Between 
the  old  and  new  cites  of  the  city,  there  is  a  deep  ravine,  in  whidi  the 
Riul  road  runs,  and  over  which  bridges  are  thrown.  Hie  castle  stands 
on  one  side  of  it,  upon  a  rocky,  lofty,  precipitous  bluff,  impossible  to  be 
dimbed  upon  three  sides  of  it.  A  spacious  esplanade  speeds  itaelf 
out  on  the  top  of  the  hiJQ,  at  the  head  of  High  street,  which  evidently 

'  thence  took  its  name.  From  the  deep  ravine»  on  the  north  side  of  the 
hill,  rise  rows  of  dark  old  stone  houses,  seven,  eight  and  nine  stotiea 
Ugh,  looking  in  one  direciicm  oa  the  terrace  on  which  stand  the  Bank 
of  Scotland,  and  the  Free  Church  College,  lliese  houses  extend,  on 
the  crown  d  the  hill,  over  to  High  street,  where  .they  are  tiiree,  four, 

,  and  five  stories,  hi  the  same  way,  the  habitations  descend  down  on 
the  south  side  of  tfaia  street,  and  of  the  hiU.      High  street  runs  grad- 


G8  NOTES  OP  FOEBIOV  TKAVSL. 

nalljr  slong  down  the  top  of  tbe  -ridge,  fWrm  &k  Qwde  to  its  eastern 
terminus.  Jobn  Knox'i  house  stands  some  distance  down  High  street, 
where  H  suddenly'  oontntcts.  It  jots  out  into  t^  street,  and  narrows 
it  by  nearly  its  own  widtli.  h  is  a  nnaQ,  very  ancient  looking,  I<nr 
ceiling,  two  or  tfaree  storied  bouse,  with  attic  gables,  very  steq>,  endi 
higher  stbry  projecting  into  the  street  over  the  immediste  lower  one, 
and  gives  it  a  very  uncouth  appearance.  Its  windows  are  small,  witli 
very  diminutave  paaes  of  gjass  leaded  toget^r.  It  is  ooeupied  bf 
tobaooooistB  and  otker  small  deslers,  Ob  tfa*  oomer  of  tlte  hooM, 
looking  directly  up  High  street,  is  s  small  piece  of  stone  sculpture, 
representing  Knox  in  the  attitude  of  presching  the  word.  It  is  placed 
<Ki  the  lower  part  of  tiie  second  story,  on  the  projecting  comer.  Uta 
bouse  is  shabby  lo(^ng,  and  is  sustained  partly  by  a  new  (^naqh, 
whidt  has  recently  been  erected  immediately  east  of  IL  Ilie  Sootdl 
show  not  the  desire  to  preserve  it,  tliat  the  Ikiglish  da  the  house  of 
Shakepeare.  It  forms  a  very  important  fdnt,  and  is  Qomm(Hily  reAr- 
red  to,  for  the  purpose  of  directing  the  strsnger  his  wsy,  in  that  part 
(i£4fae  city.  I  passed  it  on  my  way  to  Plaisaooe  street,  and  here  again, 
as  at  Glasgow  on  Saturday  night,  I  was  brought,  about  an  hour  befora 
dark,  among  the  poor  and  more  degraded  population  of  Sootiaod.  It 
eorresptuded  exactly  with  what  I  had  observed  in  the  former  place. 
From  all  that  1  saw,  however,  I  cannot  but  thmk  that  my  old  friend 
and  fellow  student,  the  Rev.  A.  McClelland,  D.  D.,  who  reoently,  ins 
letter  published  in  the  Dutch  Intelligencer,  in  New  York,  abusing  th« 
Sootoh  greately,  as  drunken,  besotted,  and  more  degraded  and  wretched 
than  the  slaves  in  the  United  States,  has  too  highly  wrought  the  pic- 
ture. I  inquired  of  a  young  laborlug  man,  poorly  dad,  who  was  idly 
Btaoding  oa  the  comer,  about  whieh  odiera  thronged,  in  passing  and 
rerpaanng,  where  John  Knox's  house  was.  Hepunted  me  forward  to 
tha  projecting  bouse,  at  some  distance,  and  sud, "  there  it  is ;  ye  c«D  see 
h  wee),  butyeshudgsng  and  see  CSivley's  monument,  on  the  hill  ba^ 
there.'*  I  thanked  him  for  his  information,  when  he  guod-hunioreti]r 
■miled,  and  as  I  started  trom  him,  gave  me  two  or  three  t^ia  of  Ids 
hand  on  my  back,  in  testimony  of  his  good  will. 

A%ffutl  USA.  Ihis  day  (heard  Dn.  Guthrie  and  Ctandliah preMh ; 
and  WM  very  mudi  [deased  and  edified  witii  both.  I  was  phased  with 
Dr.  >[<  Nols,  but  nuKh  more  with  them.  TheSabhatb  is  well  obaemd 
in  f!i<liL>ljurgh.  Tlce  hours  of  woi^ip  were  11  *.  h.,  and  3  p.  k.,  |N)e- 
clsely  as  iunong  the  Presbyterians,  of  Sootch-Irish  extraction,  in  Car- 
lisle,  Ponnsylvanla.  I  had  thonght  of  going,  in  the  evening,  to  hear  a 
man  of  the  name  of  Mennohie^  who  has  been  sn  fa-ish  Roman  priest^ 
and  )Mving  tnmed  Protestant,  is  labcriBg  for  the  reform  and  edvcalion 


ATTBanMNG  CHtmCffi  '  .69* 


^ 


of  the  ddldren  of  Irish  Catholics.      My  good'friend  seemed  to  think  I 
would  not  be  pleased  with  his  manner  and  ways ;  said  the  good  peopIe^ 
of  Edinburgh  began  to  doubt  his  piety  and  reliableness,  and  that  the- 
Free  Presbyterians  who  had  sustained  him,  were  becoming  suspicious  ;- 
Aat,  howeTer  he  may  have  been,  like  Ronge,  converted  from  Roman- 
ism, he  has  not  been  soundly  converted  to  Christ.     At  the  close  of  this 
precious-Sabbath,  which  has  been  to  me  indeed  a  *^  feast  of  fat  things,^' 
my  heart  glows  with  love  to  the  Evangelical  Christians  and  people  or 
this  goodly  city. 

At  eleven  o'dock  I  went  to  hear  Dr.  Gudirie  in  St.  John's  Free 
Church.  Hie  services  had  commenced  before  I  reached  the  place 
of  worship,  and  I  found  the  doors,  and  passages  for  entrance,  all 
crowded.  It  was  during  the  introductory  prayer  that  I  arrived  at  the- 
door.  Tlie  crowd  remained  outside,  silent,  attentive,  and  uncovered* 
None  attempted  to  enter  till  it  was  concluded,  showing  great  respect 
to  the  solemnity  of  this  act  of  worship,  and  the  devotional  feelings  or 
others.  After  it  was  concluded,  I  prised  my  way  into  the  house  along 
with  the  throng.  Ilu'ough  the  politeness  of  a  lady,  wht>  saw  me  stanch- 
ing in  the  densely  crowded  aisle,  I  was  bidden  to  a  seat  she  marfnaged 
to  get  for  me,  in  the  pew  by  wliich  I  stood.  When  the  movett^ent^, 
produced  by  the  entrance  of  so  many  pe^pons  had  subsided,  the  Dr. 
read  the  scriptures.  Hie  congregation  t^en  sung,  and  the  sermon  fol- 
lowed, after  whidi  there  was  singing  again,  another  prayer,  then  a 
Ibmrth  song  of  praise,  and  the  benediction.  The  personal  appearance 
of  the  speaker  was  somewhat  awkward ;  his  features  are  good.  His 
forehead  is  high  and  of  strongly  marked  intellectual  bearing.  His  hair- 
not  yet  touched  with  gray,  is  rather  of  a  sandy  color,  and  hiscoimteft- 
anee  fiill  of  animation  and  expresnon.  His  figure  is  rather  tall  mxA- 
portly,  but  probably  rendered  more  so  to  the  eye*  of  the  beholder,  bj^ 
tibegown  tibat  hung  loosly  from  his  shoulders,  and  the  long  white  bands 
that  fell  firom  his  neck  upon  lus  breast.  His  manner  is  vehement,  and 
his  gesticulation  indicated  to  me  somewhat  of  nervous  excitability. 
His  discourse  abounded  with  poetic  inmgery,  and  was  rich  in  illustra- 
tiens.  Many  ofthem  were  quite  pictoiially  presented;  i^l  glowed  with 
poetic  fire,  and  some  were  exceedingly  brilliant.  His  discourse  was 
mainly  addressed  to  Qiristtans,  or  true  believers  in  Jesus  Christ,  to 
whose  experience,  occasionally  daring  its  progress,  appeals  were  made 
witii  great  feeling  and  power.  I  felt  that  it  did  me  great  good  as  a 
Christian  and  a  minister  of  Christ. 

After  the  dose  oi  tiie  service,  about  one  o'clock  I  passed  on  my  waj 
to  the  Orarch  of  Dr.  Candlish^  who  was  to  preach  at  two  o'clock,  and 
Instead  of  returning  to  the  hotel,  Altered  the  grounds  of  the  West 


/ 


eO  K0TB8  OF  VOSMW  XaA-YBL. 


7 — 

Kirk,  which  lie  at  the  foot  of  Castle  Hill,  and  were  on  my  w»j.  The 
burial  place  appears  to.  be  quite  ancient,  and  replete  with  mortal  re- 
mains. Iluman  bones,  in  small  fragments,  were  to  be  seen  oocanon- 
allj)  mingled  with  the  sand  and  gravel  in  the  walks.  My  attention  lo 
them  was  first  attracted  by  a  Scotchman,  who  remained  during  the 
interval,  and  along  with  a  few  others,  in  like  manner  were  q^ending  tba 

.  time  in  examining  the  tombs.  "  Och !  och !"  exclaimed  he,  as  he  atir* 
red  a  few  pieces  of  broken  bone  with  hb  cane,  which  he  saw  lying  ia 
the  walk — "  it  is  nae  weel  done  to  hae  sic  things  in  sight.  They  abnd 
nae  leave  them  abouve  ground."  He  seemed  to  be  quite  oiSended  and 
horrified  at  the  prospect.  The  monument  raised  to  the  memory  of 
the  Rev.  David  Dickson,  D.  D.,  former  pastor  of  the  churdi,  is  alaige 
piece  of  marble  attached  to  the  one  side  of  the  basement  story  of  the 
tower,  looking  down  one  of  the  principal  walks  or  ways  of  approach 
to  the  (^urch.  It  is  of  white  marble,  and  contains,  as  large  as  life,  and 
hi  high  basso  relievo,  the  figure  of  the  venerable  pastor  |n  his  dericai 

.  robes  and  white  bands,  apparently  in  his  walks  among  his jpariBhioners ; 
his  hand  is  laid  upon  a  little  child,  as  though  he  were  invoking  a  blsea- 
ing  upon  it,  while  others,  young  and  old^  are  crowding  around  to  greet 
him.  He  died  in  July,  1842,  after  having  been  forty  years  pastor  of 
the  church.  Honorable  and  affectionate  testimony  is  borne  to  his 
memory  as  a  faithful  pastor,  kind  friend,  and  worthy  citizen. 

On  the  inner  side  of  the  tower,  and  on  the  same  wall  which  suppor|B 
the  entablature  to  the  memory  of  Dr.  Diokson,  is  another,  commem- 
orative of  the  celebrated  mathematician,  John  Napier,  the  inventor  oi 
logarithmic  arithmetic,  and  of  the  instrument  called  "  Napier's  bonea,*' 
by  which  the  multiplication  and  division  of  large  numbers  is  greatlj 
expedited.  The  epitaph  is  in  Latin,  which,  remembering  my  youthful 
regard  for  the  distinguished  scholar,  when  I  first  learned  the  nature  and 

.  value  of  logarithims  in  various  branches  of  mathematical  scieaoe^  I 
was  induced  to  copy. 

Having  spent  half  an  hour  nearly  in  the  grounds  of  the  West  Kirk, 
I  passed  a  short  distance  forward  from  its  gate  of  entrance,  to  the 
church  of  Dr.  Candlish.     It  seemed  as  if  the  entire  population  hud 

.  devoted  themselves  to  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath.  Every  house 
was  quiet  in  the  city.  No  noise  of  carts,  carriages,  or  people  walking 
the  streets.  Those  in  motion  were  silently  wen<&ng  their  way  to  the 
•places  of  worship.  The  religious  services  are  generally  confined  to 
the  morning  and  aflemoon.  It  was  grateful  to  me  to  see  the  after- 
noon of  Sabbath  so  well  observed.  The  practice,  in  many  cities,  of 
substituting  night  preaching  for  an  afternoon  service,  I  fear  has  ocm- 
tributed  no  littie  to  Sabbath  desecration.    There  are  very  few  ni^t 


ATTENBIWO  CHUitCH.  61 


senrioes  in  Edinburgh.  Hie  eTenings  of  Sabbath  are  spent  by  the  fam- 
ines of  the  pious  and  serious  class  of  people  in  catechising  their  house- 
holds and  instructing  their  children  in  divine  things.  The  observance 
of  the  day  is  strongly  marked. 

Dr.  Gandlish^s  church  was  well  filled.     Half  an  hour  before  two 
o*cibdc  ^e  people  began  to  gather.     It  was  obvious  there  were  many, 
strangers,  but  the  house  wa^  not  so  thronged  as  that  of  Dr.  Guthrie^s 
at  11  A.  M.     The  Dr.  entered  the  church  punctually  at  the  hour,  pre- 
ceded by  the  sexton,  or  beadle,  who  bore  the  bible  in  his  hands,  and 
placed"  it  in  the  pulpit.     He,  too,  wore  a  loose  gown,  which,  however, 
did  not  coneeal  his  natural  awkwardness.     His  person  is  small^-Ms 
movements  are  rapid — his  appearance  as  if  he  labored  from  embar- 
ramment,  but  his  whole  manner  and  spirit  gave  abundimt  evidence  of 
humble  fervor  and  deep  sincerity.     He,  too,  was  quite  uncouth  and 
awkward  in  his  delivery,  but  the  richness  of  his  matter,  and  the  regu- 
lar ^ow  of  profound  thought,  uttered  with  solemn  earnestness,  as  if 
the  speaker  was  impressed  with  his  solemn  accountability  to  (jrod, 
ind  amdety  to  benefit  his  fellow  men,  made  you  very  soon  lose  snght 
of  wliatever  seemed  outre  or  ungainly  in  his  manner.    His  discourse 
was  logical,  deeply  spiritual,  and  thoroughly  experimental.    I  enjoyed 
it  much,  and  felt  greatly  refreshed  by  it.    From  its  tenor  I  should 
judge  that  there  had  been  in  his  congregation  more  than  ordinary  inter 
eat  €m  the  subject  of  rdigion.    In  the  language  of  many  in  the  United' 
States,  so  fond  of  technics  and  cant  phrases,  offensive  to  persons  of 
correct  andrefined  taste,  it  would  have  been  pronounced  a  *' revival 
■wmoD."    And  however  surprising  it  might  be  thought  by  those  pre* 
judiced'agaiDst  IliUenarianism,  as  it  is  called — ^who  invariably  indicate 
that  they  have  n<^  stu£ed  tiie  subject  with  sufficient  care  and  discrim- 
inalion  to  know  what  are  the  real  sentiments  they  condemn — the  dis- 
oourae  evinced  that  the  speaker's  mind  had  been  fully  imbued  with  the' 
frith  and  hope  of  the  coming  and  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesua  Christ. 

In  the  religious  services  of  this  day,  in  the  quiet  Sabbath  as  here, 
externally  at  leadt,  so  exemplarily  sanctified,  and  in  the  few  hours  pasaed  ^ 
in  duistian  converse  with  the  excellent  friend  of  my  early  mi  greatly- 
beloved  friend,  removed  in  the  jnidst  of  his  usefulness  and  daya  fh>m 
this  world  of  toil  and  conflict,  I  have  been  greatly  refreshed.    I  am* 
^  fidly  repaid  for  my  hasty  visit  to  Edinburgh,  and  hope,  if  spared  to 
return  from  my  journey  through  Egypt  and  Palestine,  to  repeat  it 
before  sailing  for  the  United  States,  when  I  shall  have  more  time  to» 
cDJoy  it,  and  to  become  acquainted  with  gentlemen  hexe  to  whom  I 
hftTe  letters  of  introduction.    I  have  felt  much  more  at  tiome  in  Scot- 


€%  KOTBS  OF  90BSfi»  TBAVSL 


0m    ^ 


land  than  In  En^ttid.  I  lore  the  people  and  AdrjnstitiitioBs.  Eray 
thing  wore  an  aspect  more  like  that  of  my  own  oountrj,  whidi,  in 
the  spirit  of  its  institotions,  in  its  appredaHon  of  the  bible  and  the 
great  prindples  of  the  reformation,  and  ki  its  hostility  to  the  deq^otio 
sway  of  priestly  and  despotic  tjranta,  owes  much  to  Ihe  influenoe  of 
the  early  emigrants  from  Sootbmd  and  the  nordi  of  Ireland,  who,  un- 
•derstanding  well,  nobly  contended  for,  the  lights  of  oonsdencey  die 
ifreedom  of  personal  judgment  in  matters  of  religions  frith  and  prao- 
tioe,  and  the  obligations  oi  direct  individual  responability  to  God, 
imder  the  illmnination  of  the  Scriptiires  for  their  exerdse,  in  which 
^Uuiigs  oonfflst  the  yery  elements  of  all  true  and  perman^it  dvil  and 
ecclesiastical  fireedom. 

My  time  has  not  permitted  me  to  do  mudi  in  the  way  of  seeing  the 
curiosities,  ^sc.,  of  the  place,  except  during  a  few  walks  I  took  onSat- 
nirday.  I  visited  the  impregnable  casUe,  but  not  the  royal 
Ae  Free  Church  College,  buUt  in  ISizabethan  style,  resembling 
the  Bank  of  Scothmd,  on  the  brow  of  tlie  hill,  a  heavy  piece  of  ardii- 
tteetore;  and  the  ancient  Church  (rf*  St.  Giles,  tiie  largest  in  the  dty, 
161  feet  high,  surmounted  by  an  imperial  crown  of  open  arched  ^tona 
nroxk,  19  the  centre  of  which  is  ad^e,  or  aetof  muf^calbeUsy^yel 
.«v«ry  day,  except  Simday,  from  12  to  1  o'dodL  1  regretted  that  I 
liad  not  time  to  visit  the  ^'ragged  schools,^  in  gufttmg  up  wfaitfi  Dc 
<iruthr!e  has  taken  such  a  prominent  and  active  part,  and  of  irtnoh  I 
learned  many  very  interestiag  partMulors  inaa  Mrs.  Duncan.  Hoar 
I  wkah  that  similar  schools  conUL  be  established  in  all  our  barge  ^Hias 
in  the  United  States,  eflpeoially  wliere  the  poorer  dasses  of  the  peofie 
liave  not  the  bem^  of  the  free  diaflaiet  sdraol  aystem,  ao  admiiaiUy 
<XHiducted  and  siieoossfiilly  prosecuted  m  Detroit  How  slow  are  gcnr- 
enunents  and  communitna,  and  even  the  mannwi  of  pkdlantfaropio  per- 
acHu,  in  ieaming  tfiat  it  is  easier,  cheaper  and  better  in  evciy  wa^yto 
prevent  than  ta  cure  or  punish  evil. 

August  ^th.  LeftEdinburghthisA.M.  at  10.15.  Arrived  at  York 
abovt  7  1-^  o^clock  P.  M.,  having  passed  through  Berwick,  Tweedbor- 
oo^  Newcastle,  and  places  of  inferior  note  and  name.  It  was  in  ihe 
middle  df  harvest  Hie  erops  seemed  abundant,  and  the  country,  in 
Bast  Lotluan,  especially,  exceedingly  fertile,  and  a  fine  agricultural 
region. 

Augwi  30^.  Before  break&st  this  A.  H.  visited  York  Miasterw- 
got  admission  to  the  Cathedral  and  examined  it  axtensively.  Xhe 
organ  is  at  the  one  side  of  the  tiansept^  between  the  naves  and  the 
dioSr^  and  the  largest  pipes  are  3  1-2  feet  square,  said  to  be  the  heilv^ 


iest  m  the  kingdonu*  The  interior  k  in  a  very  pore^stsate  of  preser 
Tation.  Tlie  statues  of  the  kings  are  well  executed — that  of  Henry 
V.  was  removed  because  the  people  began  to  wM'siup  it,  and  a  mod- 
>eni  sculpture  has  been  substituted  for  it.  Met  a  man  near  the  Calhe- 
dral,  well  and  neatly  dressed,  who  said  he  had  belonged  to  the  coips 
of  surveyors  connected  with  the  railroad  engineers,  but  that  since  the 
completion  of  the  railroads  there  was  nothing  to  do.  He  had  saved 
£160  and  pot  it  into  the  hands  of  some  one,  whom  he  named  to 
me,  who  had  died,  soon  after,  intestate.  His  estate  having  gCMie  into 
dianoery,  he  found  it  impossible  to  obtain  his  own,  so  that  he  was 
now  destitute,  without  employment,  and  had  not  means  to  lake  him 
to  JLondon,  nor  even  to  obtain  his  break&st  He  was  looking  around 
tosee  if  he  coilld  find  means  of  meeting  the  wants  of  the  day.  I  gave 
bun  whei^with  to  satisfy  his  hunger,  which  seemed  both  to  surprise 
and  aflbct  him,  not  having  begged,  nor  given  any  indications  of  being 
intemperate.  York  has  very  narrow  streets,  and  presents  an  aspect  ef 
gfeat  aodquify.t 

Hie  road  to  Sheffield  passed  through  a  very  fertile  and  beautifid  re- 
gion. The  Queen  this  day  was  on  her  way  to  Scotland,  and  passed, 
twohoors  previous,  by  onebf  thestatiQiiBwheveIstopped4  lamved 
at  flheflield  about  1  o'dock  and  remained  until  4  P.  )L,  having  learned 
that  isbe  gentleman  I  had  come  to  see,  had  withdrawn  from  busineas  and 
rstiied  to  Worcester.  Mr.  Vickers».to  wk»  I  introduced  myself  of 
the  firm  of  Naykor,  Vidcers  ds  Co.,  <^  wMoh  my  finend  was  formally 
a  partDer,  was  very  polite,  and  condneted  me  thiou|^  thdr  extenainna 
atbel  wo^  called  ''Mill  Boad,''  where  I  saw  aU  the  prooeasea^ fiest 
of  decarbonizing  the  steel,  which  is  put  faito  finnaces  and  heated  -for 
wmma  or  eight  Sttyn  to  a  red  heat,  in  charcoal — then  tranafeired  to  fins 
naoes  for  fluxing  it,  firom  which  it  is  taken  and  pcHined  into  fynas  fiir 
ingots,  thence  to  the  forge  for  hammering  it  into  bars,  thence  to  the 
rolling  mills  for  spreading  it  into  plates,  and  finally  to  the  madiinery 
for  drawing  it  out  into  bars  and  rolls  of  various  dimensions.  Leaving 
aOieffield,  I  arrived  at  London  about  9  1-2  A.  M. 

•XIMbteini80'fto|Maiid800|itet,eortiaM00it«llnf,iiMr«WiiUaiidlt  mU  to  be  the  Uw- 
oeM  In  Um  worUL  It  ii  fhe  gfft  of  ••  the  Utte  Bight  Hon.  and  Ker.  John  Lomley  BuTllle,  lut  off 
iemtoo*"    Iti  p>PM  »re  bronsed,  and  its  ea«e  it  of  goU^atanplx  oMred. 

*^1m  eeat  wtnaowi,"  Whteh  hare  been  called  **  the  wonder  of  the  world,"  both  far  maaonnr  and 
lepcaacntattoM  of  ao  mnoh  of  holy  wftt  that  tt  takei  tn  nearly  the  wfcole  of  Mbia 


tn  was  in  the  aeeond  eentovr,  one  of  the  ehlef  Boman  itntlont.  There  the  AnMror 
dtodi  who  had  warohcd  andnat  the  Caledonians,  the  braTo  peo]^  whom  Borne  oonU  nerer  sab- 
dva.  Hera,  toob  died  the  Anperar  Oeostanttas,  and  f or  the  oUy  is  claimed  the  honor  of  hnTlnf 
gtven-blrfhto  hv  son«  the  ftiqteror  OonstanUos  the  Great,  bnt  the  snpfosltlon  has  been  snooew 


fcBr^aimted  by  Gibbon. 


>wds  of  people  had  assenUMod,  at  dHferent  potaits,  to  «et  a  sight  at  ••HerlCi^esI/'*  fha 
__  ,  who  was  on  her  way  to  Seotland.  I  was  nrnch  amnaed  to  hear  the  eonrersatlon  of  auny 
Ib.Um  snrnon  Ihe  sotjeot  **2>ld  jtob  see  the  Qaeenf  **  asked  one  Uidy,  with  much  tr>lmeM**«i  <v 
■mifhiT  **Xo,batI  saw  the  oar  In  which  she  was,**  responded  the  other,  with  great  excitement, 
aad  Jn  ffHh  tone  as  to  Aow  thai  Ae  was  qptte  satisfied  at  the  thought  of  having  been  ao  jMarly 
pMMWSftil  in  her  effort. 


64  NOTKB  OF  FORKIQN  TRAVEL 

'  ■  .  .  — :r 

September  lei.    This  day  was  spent  in  attending  to  various  matters  ' 
of  preparation  for  my  journey. 

S^L  2d,    Visited  the  American  Ambassador,  Hon,  Abbot  Law* ' 
rence,  who  received  and  treated  me  as  a  friend  rather  than  as  a  stranger.  * 

SeptSd,     Visited  Bath,  Bristol  and  Northampton.      I  found  #«t 
both  the  latter  places  the  persons  whom  I  had  hoped  to  have  seen  wei^  ' 
absent.     Arrived  at  Worcester  a  little  after  dark,  and  reached,  about  * 
9  1-4  P.  M.,  the  house  of  my  fnend  whom  I  had  expected  to  meet  at 
Sheffield.     He  received  and  entertained  me  with  the  greatest  corral-  ' 
Ity,  and  the  season  of  our  intercourse,  though  short,  will  ever  be  re- 
membered. 

Sept.  4th,     Passed  from  Worcester  to  Eversham  by  railroad,  and  • 
thence,  by  stage,  to  Stratford-upon-Avon,  where  I  arrived  in  time  to- 
day to  visit  the  early  home  of  Shakspeare,  the  8cho6l  house,  the  tdwn 
house,  and  to  see  the  portraits  of  the  great  poet  and  of  'Garrick,  in  the 
latter. 

Sept.  5th.    This  Sabbath  I  have  rested  at  Stratford-upon-Avon,  and  \ 
attended  Trinity  Church,  A.  M.  and  P.  M.;  heard  in  the  nioming  k 
diacourse  from  Gal.  vi.  ll-^-'^  As  we  have  an  opportunity  let  us  do 
good  unto  all,**  6se.    Hie  discourse  was  delivered  by  a  Mr.  Twelve, 
the  curate,  the  rector  being  absent;  but  there  were  three  be^des  the 
fcMrmer,  that  aided  in  reading  prayers :  one,  a  Mr.  Davis,  said  to  be  a 
rxmn  of  wealth,  quite  a  young  nan.    Hie  rector  is  a  Mr.  Hardin,  of  a  - 
fiunily  of  note  in  the  neighborhood.    The  sermon  was  a  good  one,  and  . 
^i^eh  I  rejoiced  was  preached  to  so  large  a  congregation.    A  stranger 
pi^eached  m  the  afternoon,  a  pretty  good  and  somewhat  Evangelical  - 
discourse.    Here  I  saw  the  tombstone,  immediately  outside'  of  the  * 
chancel,  that  overlies  the  remains  of  Shakspeare,  bearing  hisown  quaint  ' 
epitaph,  and  notiiiiig  else : 

Good  frteade,  for  Jem*  Mkt,  ferbMra 
To  dUv  the  doflt  that  lieth  heare : 
BiMk  M  tlie  man  that  aptres  TRB  flOBMi 
And  cant  be  he  that  moves  my  bones.* 

r 

On  the  wall  is  a  bust  of  Shakspeare,  in  marble-^s^d  to  be  the  best 
extant,  and  taken  from  a  caste  after  death,  enclosed  in  an  alcove  formed  . 
by  an  arch  resting  on  pillars  in  front  of  an  entablature,  and  the  pillars 
on  an  appropriate  pedestal,  all  of  the  same  material.    .  Spent  a  verjir  ' 
calm,  interesting  and  delightful  Sabbath,  profitable  by  its  rest,  as  well  ^ 
for  body  as  for  soul. 

*A  lueleei  bleidng  and  a  worthless  cane,  fndJeaflnit  more  of  4  sopentHions  orerveenlof  jdf-  ' 

Ubiiess,than  trnst  fo  Jesos  Christ,  In  whose  bands  alone  oar  %An  remain  safe,  and  hj  falft  In  ' 
whose  promise  alone  we  can  hare  any  hope  of  their  rerlYisenee.    The  epita|di  of  his  ton-ln-law^ 
■imidy  rdatlnf  the  ftict  that  he  died  **  expecting"  the  ktngdbm  of  Ood,  tpoke  more  to  the  slncer* 

1^  of  his  reUglon,  and  the  scriptural  character  of  his  hope,  than  the  great  dramatist's. '   n^  ' 

touchstones  of  his  wife,  and  those  of  his  son-in-law  and  his  wife,  Hr.  and  Mn^  Ban,  wit|i  Shafef-  • 

peare*s  own,ft>rm  part  of  the  floor  of  the  area  in  fk-ont  of  Uie  ehancd,  imd  are  laid  side  bj  t/Vim  ^ 

nke  flags  Ina  parement.   The  coamiaoleantc,  on  their  waj  to  the  raOInf  ol  the  chancel,  pais  oTer  * 
then  on  oommonion  occasions. 


LAJTD  OF  THE  FYRAIODfi.  tf 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


BT  WAKBBV  ISHAJL 


CHAPTER  VL 


Oiw^Zow  q^  Iht  Ntk-^mort  dbotU  ike  causeB  of  ii^-no  ram  in  SffVP^ — carried  (?Mr— 
foSb  ypon  Abyssinia,  ihen  brought  back  by  (he  NUs — bed  of  the  river  rimng — toaiar 
wkeds  fofr  difofmg  waber  of  Iht  IHle—procese  of  irrigaUon — Sajptuire  iOmlrtttiim, 

Pardon  me,  if  I  pause  U)  dwell  a  little  longer  upon  this  wonderful 
phenomenon,  the  overflow  (»f  the  Nile,  as  regular  in  its  annual  recur- 
rence, as  the  revolving  seasons,  and  equally  the  product  of  an  adequate 
cause.  All  attempts  of  travels  to  solve  the  mystery,  by  penetra- 
ting to  the  sources  of  this  mighty  river,  have  hitherto  &ile<L  All 
agree,  however,  in  attributing  it  to  the  rains  which  fall  periodically 
upon  the  elevated  portion  of  the  country,  away  toward  the  equator. 

I  left  the  reader  searching  into  the  causes  which  tend  to  concentrate 
the  watery  vapour  of  the  atmosphere  over  that  tropic  region,  there  to  be 
disgorged,  to  come  pouring  down  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  transforming 
it  into  what  seems  a  &r-reaching  arm  of  the  sea.  Certain  it  is,  that 
no  portion  of  this  watery  vapor,  or  no  more  than  a-eprinkling  of  it  at 
most,  is  distilled  from  the  clouds  upon  Egypt,  and  the  legitimate  con- 
clusion is,  that  if  any  neighboring,  or  distant  country,  has  received 
double,  treble,  or  quadruple  its  fair  proportion,  it  has  been  drawn,  in 
part  at  least,  from  the  country  which  has  been  left  dry.  A  child  might 
thus  infer,  that  the  portion  of  which  E^pt  has  been  bereft,  has  been 
wafted  onward,  to  swell  the  torrents  which  have  drenched  and  flooded 
the  mountains  of  Abyssinia. 

~  And  thus,  he  who  '*  sendeth  rain  upon  the  just  and  upon  the  unjust," 
appears  to  have  made  Egypt  an  exception,  but  it  is  orUy  in  appearanoei 
for  what  other  country  is  so  blessed  *?  From  what  other  country  are 
the  rains  of  heaven  drawn  away,  to  be  returned  laden  with  so  precious 
a  burden  *?  From  a  ciistance  of  more  than  two  thousand  miles  they 
return,  not  only  to  water  the  thirsty  earth,  and  gladden  the  heart  of 
man  and  bea^t,  but  to  bring  along  with  them,  and  deposit  exactly  in 
the  right  spot,  those  elements  of  fertility,  which,  in  other  countries, 
are  supplied  at  vast  labor  and  expense — at  the  same  time  leaving  the 
soil  in  a  fit  condition  to  receive  the  seed,  without  the  labor  of  prepaara- 
tion,  which  is  indispensable  in  every  other  section  of  the  ^obe. 

It  is  recorded,  that,  in  andent  times,  the  rains  having  fiiiled  one 


LAND  OP  THE  FTBAlCnia 


«m  m  tiiat  torrid  region,  an  envoy  was  despatched  with  tidings  of  the 
6ct  to  the  inhabitants  of  Egypt,  that  they  might  be  prepared  for  a 
deficient  harvest,  and  that  the  usual  overflow  fiuled  aooordingly. 

From  the  fiict  that  the  banks  of  the  Nile  are  constantly  rising  by 
the  aooessions  they  receive  from  year  to  year,  it  may  be  appreimded, 
Aat,  in  lame,  they  will  rise  so  high  as  to  form  barriers,  wMch  cannot 
be  overflown.  A  little  considBration,  however,  will  relieve  us  Grora 
any  such  appreh^ision.  It  is  true,  there  is  a  greater  depth  oif  deposit 
immediately  upon  the  banks  than  further  back,  there  being  less  and  leis 
as  tb»  overflowing  waters  recede,  and  ccmsequently  that  Uiere  is  a  d^ 
scent  from  each  bank  outward,  the  deposit  upon  the  outer  edges  of 
Ihe  valley  scarcely  exceeding  half  a  foot  in  depth ;  while,  upon  the 
river  bank,  it  is  from  ten  to  thirty  and  forty  feet  in  depth.  But  then, 
H  is  to  be  considered,  that  the  river  bottom  is  rising  in  the  same  ratio, 
by  deposit  from  the  stream  within  its  banks,  so  that,  however  elevated 
Ihe  banks  may  become,  the*river  bottom  will  be  elevated  in  a  oorre» 
ponding  degree,  and  thus  an  annual  overflow  be  perpetuated.  And  be- 
sides, there  is  a  constant  choking  up  at  the  mouths,  by  which  the  river 
»  thrown  bade.  A  great  portion  of  the  Delta  is  supposed,  wilh  good 
reason,  to  have  been  thus  nused  from  the  sea. 

But  there  are  places  too  elevated  to  receive  the  ben^t  of  the  annu- 
al overflow,  and  to  irrigate  these,  and  for  other  purposes,  the  numer- 
ous water  wheels,  which  have  struck  me  with  such  picturesque  eflbct, 
upon  this  my  first  trip,  are  kept  in  constant  play  upon  each  bank.  Hiis 
machine  is  a  very  simple  aflair,  being  operated  by  a  sweep  which  is 
drawn  round  and  round  by  a  blinded  ox,  the  water  being  raised  by  an 
endless  chain,  or  series  of  revolving  buckets,  which  dip  as  they  descend, 
and  empty  themselves  as  they  ascend,  into  a  trough  whidi  conducts  off 
the  water  into  the  field.  It  is  rough  made,  as  though  by  a  boy  with  an 
axe  and  augur ;  but  to  see  numbers  of  these  large,  bucketed  wheels,  in 
operation  at  the  same  time,  on  either  hand,  lifting  and  pouring,  lifting 
and  pouring,  as  fkst  as  one  bucket  can  follow  another,  was  to  me  aa 
interesting  novelty. 

Hie  water  is  conducted,  in  raised  channels,  into  the  field,  the  main 
channels  sending  off  brandies  here  and  there,  and  these  again  spreading 
into  endless  ramifications,  so  that  every  ten  or  twelve  feet  square  of 
grovrnd  is  stirrounded  by  rills,  and  into  these  little  squares  the  tmy 
streams  are  tinned  as  they  flow  along,  and  turned  off  again  wh^  sufii* 
ciett«  moistvre^  imparted.  The  fkdlity  with  whidi  the  laborer  timis 
fiie  fhmiag  current,  tills  way  or  that,  is  supposed  to  iilwtrale  the  pass- 
age in  Proverbs:  ''The  King's  heart  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Lovd^  m 
die-riTSM  (streams)  6f  water,  and  he  tumeth  it  xvhithmK>e¥er  he  wttL'* 


BBAUTT  AND  DEFOBIOTT, 


CHAFTBRVn. 

.AtlTMM  iHh  Oaito,-^T%e  Acacia  cmd  the  SycafMort  of  the  Siripiurte  cotOragML — 
Strt9l9andSnk^;th6dm  in  Ut§  former;  hew  U  d^fsrt  from  that  to  lohioh  the 
American  ear  «*  accustomed, 

Tvfo  miles  back  from  the  river,  east,  at  the  fix>t  of  thamomitauis  of 
Mokattam,  stands  the  renowned  city  of  Cairo,  and  thither  we  were  dri- 
Ten  oyer  a  waj  raiaed  high  above  the  reach  of  the  annual  deluge,  and 
linedf  on  either  hand,  with  acada  trees. 

Passing  the  city  gate,  we  entered  the  great  square  of  Guro,  covei^ 
widi  trees  and  shrubbery  rejoicing  in  their  winter  glories.  The  tree 
which  prindpally  adorns  this  beautiful  place,  canopying  with  its  pen- 
dukms  foliage  the  entire  circular  way  around  it,  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  varieties  of  the  acada,  rising  to  a  height  of  sixty  or  seventy 
feet^  and  so  spadous  of  top  and  dense  of  leaf,  as  entirely  to  shut  out 
ths  rays  of  the  sun,  furnishing  a  delightful  promenade  by  itsrefl'eshing 
shade. 

And,  as  though  to  set  off  its  beauties  by  contrast,  that  most  de- 
formed of  all  the  trees  of  the  wood,  the  sycamore  of  the  Scriptures, 
rears  up  its  gnarled  tnmk  and  scraggy  top  in  near  proximity.  Hie 
body  of  an  <Ad  sycamore  resembles,  in  extenoal  appearance,  a  granite 
rock,  as  nearly  as  anything  else ;  while  its  top  looks  as  though,  in  its 
effiNTts  to  throw  out  its  branches,  it  had  met  with  some  antagonistic 
force  wluch  cramped  them  prodigiously.  But  the  top  is  admirably 
adjusted  to  the  body,  which  latter  is  very  large,  and  rises  but  a  few 
feet  from  the  ground,  so  that,  however  deformed,  both  tcunk  and  top, 
it  must  be  admitted  to  have  the  beauty  of  fhness  and  propor^<Mi  of 
parts.  Its  leaves  and  small  branches  have  the  appearance  of  being  set 
to  their  places  by  ahurricane,  and  the  body  looks  as  though  it  had  breas* 
ted  whole  vollies  of  thunderbolts. 

This  is  the  beauty  spot  of  Cairo.  Looking  out  upon  it,  and  in  near 
proximity  to  this  delightful  promenade,  stand  the  principal  hotels, 
English  and  French. 

Away  from  this  charming  spot,  I  found  little  in  Cairo  to  please  the 
eye  or  interest  the  heart.  In  the  entire  metropolis,  (of  Jiwo  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  inhabitants,)  I  found  but  one  street  wide  enough  for 
a  carriage  way,  and  that  is  less  than  a  rod  in  width.  So  narrow  u« 
the  sti|reets  generally,  that  the  windows  of  the  houses  (which  stand  out 
two  or  three  feet  from  the  walls)  project  past  each  other  from  opposite 
sides,  there  not  being  toom  fqr  them  to  project  directly  opposite  each 
other. 

His  direct  light  of  the  sun  is  thus  shut  out,  and  the  street  below 
doomed  to  twilight  at  noonday.    This  to  us  would  appear  hideous,  and 


68  .  LAJSnb  OF  THB  FTBAKIBa 

present  an  aspect  of  gloom  quite  forbidding.  But  here,  it  is  deligbtfidi 
a  real  luxury,  as  affording  protection  from  the  still  greater  evUs  of 
beat  and  dust  Often  have  I  passed  from  beneath  ihe  burning  ray^  of 
the  sun  into  Uiese  streets,  ev^i  in  winter,  to  enjoj  Uieir  refreshing  cool 
ness.  I  haye  also  foimd  diem  an  efiectual  protection  against  the  olooda 
of  dust  whidi  at  times  come  sweeping  in  from  the  desert,  dariceniHg 
the  air,  and  ^'  turning  the  sun  into  blood.''  I  have  found  in  them  as 
quiet,  serene,  and  pure  an  atmosphere  as  usual,  when,  up<xi  the  greal 
square  above  spoken  of^  there  was  a  perfect  oommoticHi  in  the  ele- 
ments, and  such  a  haze  in  the  atmosphere,  that  you  could  see  but  a  &w 
feet  before  you,  no  one  venturing  out  without  a  veil  to  protect  the  oi^ 
gans  of  respiration.  Such  a  blast,  however,  occurred  but  once  during 
the  three  winter  months  I  was  in  Egypt  Generally  the  atmoqphero 
was  on  the  opposite  extreme,  clear  and  ser^ie,  bland  and  exhileratiqgk 
I  said  I  found  but  one  street  wide  enough  for  a  carriage  way.  It  m 
.  the  only  one  I  have  found  wide  enougl\  to  let  in  the  sun,  and  to  obviate 
the  exposure,  a  covering  is  thrown  over  from  one  side  of  it  to  tJia 
other,  upon  the  tope*of  the  houses,  there  being  apertures  in  it  occa- 
sionally to  let  in  the  light  And  thus,  what  would  seem  to  us  a  rank 
deformily,  puts  on  an  aspect  of  comeliness  here^  associated' as  it  is  widi 
ideas  of  comfort  and  enjoyment 

The  shops,  too,  are  as  great  an  oddity  as  the  streets,  being  in  60t 
mere  holes  in  the  wall.  Ranged  along  on  each  side  of  the  business 
streets,  are  open  places  in  the  walls  of  the  houses,  (rom  three  to  ei^il 
feet  square,  and- these  are  the  shops,  which,  in  the  a^r^iEite,  make  up 
the  bcusaara.  The  platform,  or  floor,  is  elevated  about  two  and  a  half 
feet  tcora  the  ground,  and  upon  this  the  merchant  sits  squat  like  a  tai> 
lor,  with  a  pipe  about  four  feet  long  in  his  mouth,  his  goods  all  being 
within  arm's  length  around  him.  Without  moving  from  his  position, 
he  lazily  readies  down  his  goods  for  inspection,  as  tliough  it  were  a 
most' irksome  task,  and  gives  you  his  lowest  price  yery  gravely,  but 
is  oft^i  glad  to  get  the  one  half  of  it,  repeatedly  calling  you  back  and 
trying  you  at  a  lower  figure.  If  the  trade  goes  ofl^  well ;  but  if  ma^ 
he  very  complacently  reaches  back  his  goods  to  the  ehel^  and  again  ha 
is  fuming  away  at  his  pipe ;  and  when  its  contents  are  exhausted,  if  no 
customers  appear,  he  yields  to  the  soft  influences  he  has  inspired,  curii 
down  upon  his  pillow,  kept  near  him  for  the  purpose,  and  drops  to 
sleep.  It  is  no  uncommon  spectacle  to  hear  these  enterprising  mer> 
chants  snoring  upon  their  pillows,  while  the  shops'' dose  by  are  driviqg 
a  brisk  business.  In  the  streets  of  lesser  note,  the  shop-keeper  stands 
upon  the  bare  ground,  having  little  more  than  room  enough  to  tun  ill 
his  pen.    It  should  be  observed,  however,  that  duifa  shop  is  limited  to 


ffTBIBT  AJmrOTANOBa  69 


die  sale  of  a  particular  artid«,  or  a  particolar  kind  of  goods,  aad  of 
coarse,  with  a  rather  scanty  supply  even  of  that,  but  little  room  is 
Mquixed.  A  single  store  in  one  of  our  large  towns,  could  make  as 
great  a  show  of  goods  as  a  whole  street  of  these  paltry  shops. 

Another  oddity  here  is,  that  in  so  laigp  a  dly,  the  streets  should  be 
entirely  unpaved.  lids,  also,  wfaidi  would  be  an  intolerable  evil  with 
VB,  is  negatively  a  great  blessing  here.  Indeed,  pavemoitB  would  be 
apositlTe  nuisance,  there  being  neither  rains  to  make  mud,  nor  wheelF« 
to  any  eztent^to  make  ruts,  nor  streeto  even  to  admit  wfaeela.  Tlie 
ground  is  dry,  hard  and  etmootfa,  the  year  round,  there  being  neither 
dast  nor  rattling  pavemepts  to  annoy. 

Dier)  is,  however,  a  still  greater  annoyance  here  than  rattling  far^ 
meots.  In  an  American,  or  European  dty,  the  noises  which  stun  the 
ear,  arise  from  the  datter  of  iron-bound  hoofit,  and  the  rattling  of  car- 
fiage  wheels.  Here,  too,  the  ear  is  equally  stunned,  but  by  a  very 
•dSflerent  medley  of  noisee— that  oi  human  voices.  I  have  no  meana 
of  knowing  which  would  prevail,  the  datter  and  rattluig  of  iron  upon 
our  pavements,  or  the  noises  poured  forth  frofti  the  throats  of  thia 
peop^  if  the  twain  were  con^ingled  in  the  same  street ;  but  my  im- 
pm3  on  ia,  that  the  latter  only  would  be  heard  at  all»  So  chol^o  ia 
tiie  temperament  of  this  people,  or  perhaps  I  should  say  so  Mm^ujn^ 
tiiat  they  cannot  discourse  long  uj^n  the  commonest  topic,  without 
getting  upon  a  high  aad  boisterous  key. 

And  besides,  there  is  such  a  throa^^eplitting,  ear-grating  jangle  in 
tiie  yery  sounds  of  the  Arabic  language,  as  to  contribute  very  mat^ 
ilaUy  to  the  general  effect  It  is  really  distressing  to  hear  some  Of 
the  letters  in  the  Arabic  alphabet  pronounced,  so  frightful  are  the  gui> 
taral  intonations.  One  letter,  for  instance,  can  only  be  properly  spo* 
ken  by  means  of  sounds  very  much  like  those  of  a  person  choking  to 
death,  while  another  is  uttered  by  sounds  as  much  like  the  bleating  of 
m  goat  as  anything  else.  And  these  horrid  gutturals,  of  course^  pass 
into  die  language,  and  fall  painfully  upon  the  unaccustomed  ear.  I 
can  hear  the  gabble  of  the  Frenchmazi,  the  Qerixuin,  the  Italian,  pr  the 
%Miniard,  without  windng,  but  when  the  Arab  opens  his  mouth,  f  want 
to  stop  both  ears  and  run  away. 

I  would  here  remark,  however,  that  in  attempting  to  learn  tiie  lan- 
guage, one  must  be  on  the  alert,  or  he  will  learn  anything  but  the 
Arabic,  especially  if  he  accepts  adragoman  as  an  instructor.  His  sua- 
pidons  will  be  immediately  aroused,  that  your  object  is  to  play  dia 
dragoman  for  yourself^  and  the  rascal  will  so  instruct  you,  as  to  make 
jon  appear  ridiculous,  when  you  come  to  uae  the  words  he  has  put  in 
jonr  mouth. 


LAITD  07  THE  FTRAUIBa 


CHAPTER  THL 


%< 


A  woftotoHf  lbiini,—Wiadttfid  Flaetam  aad  «aA«M09  ^  OMrirt,—Dirt  <kr1*, 

how  Uiey  craxt  one,— He  Omw  ia  a  new  drtsij—TlK  Dogt,—JU  Boo  Boo  Bo^— 
n»  JfwaHU,--7K<  Stnel  Ftwditr. 

Not  only  the  loud  jargon  of  hiunan  vuioee,  but  k  gnftt  vuie^  <rf 
odier  startling  noises  &U  upon  the  ear  in  pftsaing  Ihe  straeta  of  Cairo.    ■ 

Oraek!  eraekl  eraek!  goes  the  whip,  like  a  revolver,  and  new 
what  a  Mvambling  to  clear  the  way  !  A  oourier,  a  oooricr,  is  oomki^ 
upon  the  full  run,  mi  toot,  before  the  ovrii^  of  a  grandee,  oraperaon 
of  note  on  horse  back,  cracking  his  enormous  whip  as  he  runs,  to  giva 
wanung  to  the  moving  masaea  of  men,  women  and  children,  oomels, 
mules  and  donkeys,  with  whidi  d>e  narrow  carriage-way  is  throogcd, 
when  -instantly  they  part  to  the  right  and  left,  and  away  goes  the  oar- 
liage,  or  the  horseman,  at  Aill  speed. 

I  was  never  more  surprised,  than  to  see  a  way  thus  detved  for  a 
number  <^  carriages,  tight  through  acres  of  men  standing  thiok  togedier, 
assembled  to  witness  the  perfonnuice  of  a  miracle  at  a  Moslem  ftflti- 
val,  Ihe  ouurier  advanced  with  a  crack  of  the  whip  at  every  jump, 
the  crowd  retired  like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  he  passed  without  riaekeo- 
ing  his  speed,  and  a  whole  tnun  of  carriages  after  him  upon  the  hill 
trot.  In  the  general  scramble  and  upsetting,  a  large  number  were 
crowded  back  and  precipitated  into  a  deep  fosse,  fiUing  it  brim  fitU. 

At  ni^t,  there  is  a  touch  of  sublimity  added  to  the  spectacle,  there 
being  two  couriers  threading  their  way  in  advanct>  of  the  carriages,  one 
of  whom  bears  on  high  a  lighted  torch. 

It  is  wonderful  with  what  ease  and  agility  these  men  will  bound 
over  the  ground  by  the  hour  together,  followed  by  carriages  or  horsft. 
men  under  such  speed,  and  not  seem  to  tire.  TTiis  is  but  another 
instance  of  the  amazing  strength,  and  power  of  endurance  of  these  peo- 
ple. 

Creak!  creak.'  creak ^  squeak  the  wheels,  a  noise  more  horrible 
than  the  braying  of  a  thousand  asses.  Look  yonder — those  things  you 
see,  are  called  dirt  carts.  There  are  a  dozen  of  them  in  a  string,  mov- 
ing to  their  own  music,  the  axletrees  being  so  worn  that  the  wheela 
wabble  here  and  there,  making  tracks  like  a  serpent,  and  in  the  operar 
tiongrimliiig  "lit  n--]---;  that  fairly  make  you  crawl.  In  structure^ 
they  ar-}  as  r>  ugli  ami  ll^t'kwa^d,  as  though  hacked  out  by  a  boy  for 

I  askci  an  Englishi.iiui  resident  there,  why  they  did  not  grease  them. 
If  It  were  only  to  stofi  ihe  horrid  noise — ^to  which  he  replied,  "  that  is 
Arab  character  exutl > ."  and  added,  that  notlung  could  be  more  irk- 


\- 


THB  CBOW  IN  A  NSW  ]>|USaS.-*THE  DOG,  Ac.  11 

aome  to  an  Arab,  tium  to  be  obliged  to  do  anything  regularly,  tidil j 
and  fljatematacally.  One  would  suppose,  that  if  anything  oould  goad 
them  up  to  it,  suob  noises  would,  for  they  are  enough  to  durow  <»ft 
into  spaams.  lliese  carts,  and  a  few  pleasure  carriages,  are  ail  the 
wheeled  vehicles  I  liave  seen  in  Egypt. 

'  Oawf  caw!  eaw!  shouts  the  crow,  whose  &miliar  accents  are 
heard  in  these  streets  tlurough  the  live-long  day.  The  birds  of  E^ypt, 
for  the  most  part,  take  up  t^eir  abodes  in  the  cities  and  vill^es,  on 
account,  I  suppose,  of  there  being  so  few  attractions  elsewhere,  such  a 
destitution  of  groves,  and  so  much  desert.  And  prominent  among 
Ibem  is  the  crow,  but  it  dresses  in  re^mentals  here,  and  I  did  not 
know  it  until  it  spoke.  While  its  head,  wings  and  tail  are  a  coal  black, 
as  with  us,  its  entire  body  is  a  perfect  dove  color,  making  it  quite  a 
fimcy  bird.  It  is  not  always  a  fine  dress,  however,  that  denotes  purity 
and  elevation  of  character.  Imposing  as  is  the  costume  of  the  crow 
here,  I  found  it  engaged  in  rather  a  low  business.  It  is  the  office-work 
of  tlie  crow,  vulture  and  the  buzzard,  and  some  other  birds,  to  dean 
the  streets  of  putrid  substances,  and  it  was  in  this  capacity  of  dij 
scavenger,  that  I  found  it  employed.  Birds  of  this  class  enjoy  spedal 
immnnity,  it  being  a  crime  here  to  destroy  them. 

Bow,  wow,  wow,  goes  the  dog.  Hie  dogs  here  are  as  thidc  aidl 
saucy  as  at  Alexandria,  being  of  the  same  jackall  breed.  Here,  how- 
ever, multitudes  of  them  are  their  own  masters,  and  live  amicably 
together  in  their  own  quarter  of  the  city.  In  common  with  the  crow^ 
the  vulture,  and  the  buzzard,  they  share  the  honor  of  being  the  sity 
scavengers,  and  as  such  are  protected  and  cared  for  by  the  city  gov- 
enmient.  The  dog  troughs  in  their  own  quarter,  are  kept  filled  with 
water  at  the  public  expense,  in  consideration  of  their  public  services. 

Boo,  hoo,  boo !  is  the  blubbering  cacj  of  tlie  man,  the  boy,  or  the 
woman,  as  the  case  may  be,  under  the  blows  inflicted  in  the  street. 
It  is  amazing  to  what  extent  the  practice  of  personal  beating  is  carried 
here.  Every  one  seems  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  flogging  his  inferiors^ 
and  it  is  wonderful  how  the  poor  creatures  will  stand  and  bear  it,  I 
have  se^  them  kicked  and  pounded,  until  my  blood  ran  cold,  and  they 
would  neither  n  sist,  nor  try  to  escape,  but  only  bawl.  I  saw  a  man 
inflict  severe  blows,  with  a  large  can&stalk,  upon  the  bare  arms  of  a 
woman,  imd  those  arms  clasping  a  child,  and  that  in  a  public  high-way. 
8he  sobbed  aad  cried  like  the  baby  she  held,  but  the  brute  only  strpdc 
her  the  harder. 

But  haiiL !  What  noises  are  those  as  of  voices  from  midheavfnt 
lliey  proceed  fh)m  the  throats  of  the  Muezzin^y  who  are  fstjvf^  nloud 


^  LAND  OF  THB  FTRAMIDa 

—^——^^-^-^^^—^^^^^ -      -  -  ■     ■  I    I  J     -     r  ^ -— - — 

from  the  galleries  (^the  minerets,  hundreda  of  them  lifting  ap  their 
voioes  at  the  aame  instant,  in  different  parts  of  the  dly,  to  notify  file 
people  to  come  to  prayers.  No  such  thing  as  a  bell  is  ever  allowed  . 
to  perform  that  ofltee.  .Projecting  galleries  are  built  around  on  the 
oatride  of  die  mineretSi  (slim,  sixteen  sided  towers)  hi^  above  the  sur- 
lounding  dwellings.  Bound  and  ruund  the  Mneodn  walkSf  repeatiqg 
^  he  goes,  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  ^  God  is  most  great,  God  is  most 
great,  there  is  no  other  Deity  but  God,  and  Mohammed  is  his  aposde^ 
oome  to  prayers,**  If  it  be  die  morning  call,  he  adds,  *'  it  is  bettet  to 
pray  than  to  sleep.^ 

These  oalls  are  repeated  several  times  in  the  Course  oi  the  day  mA 
-evening,  but  they  are  totally  unheeded  by  the  mass  of  the  people*  the 
"devout  few  only  turning  aside  to  perform  their  devotions. 

And  what  are  those  boisterous  tones,  guttural  ejaculatioiiSy  and  shrill 

.  pipings,  whioh  send  a  shuddering  through  your  soul  ?     They  proceed 

from  the  speaking  organs  of  a  street  preacher,  who  is  denouncing  the 

«woes  of  heaven  against  the  infidels.    You  see  him  mounted  on  a  ros- 

>4cum,  with  a  crowd  gathered  around  him,  beating  the  air  most  vehe- 

miKitly,  while  his  writhings  and  contortions  are  frightluL 

A  most  tragical  instance  of  this  kind  of  fiuiAticism  was  related  to  me 
\Sj  an  old  European  resident,  as  having  transpired  at  the  time  thecbol- 
en  prevailed  here  a  few  years  ago.  That  dreailful  disease  was  raging 
ftariully,  carrying  offgreat  numbers  of  the  population,  and  when  it  was 
at  its  worst,  an  old  Mohammedan,  who  was  venerated  for  his  sanctity, 
mounted  a  cfaai^er,  and,  riding  back  and  forth  through  the  streets,  cried 
aloud,  proclaiming  the  judgments  of  heaven  against  the  infidels.  He 
assured  them  that  the  cholera  was  commissioned  to  sweep  them  all  od| 
unless  they  renounced  Christianity,  and  joined  the  &ithful,  at  the  aame 
time  boasting  his  own  invulnerability.  He  had  no  fear  of  the  diolera 
coming  near  him,  for  he  was  shielded  by  the  pan^jply  of  heaven.  He 
was  followed  through  the  streets  by  crowds  of  Mussulmen,  who  were 
struck  with  awe  at  his  words,  and  who  seemed  to  think,  that  the  closer 
they  gathered  around  him,  the  safer  they  were.  The  next  <iay,  he  was 
sozed  with  the  cholera  and  died. 

This  is  but  a  solitary  instance  of  the  ftnatidsm  which  developes 
Itself  in  the  devotees  of  the  great  Impostor ;  and  it  is  a  spirit  which 
would  make  Christian  blood  to  flow  like  rivers,  if  it  had  the  power* 
No  thanks  to  this  exterminating  spirit  for  the  immunities  (nd  proteo- 
tlon  which  Christian  tourists  enjoy  in  traversing  these  countries !  It  is 
only  from  foar,  fear  of  the  more  powerful  governments  of  duistendom^ 
that  they  are  thus  rsstrained,  and  not  from  the  nobler  impulses  of 
hnmanity  Of  religion. 


THB  jmn  QUABTBBL  tS 

^  -_■---         -  — ^^ 

CHAFTBB  IX. 

48  noted  for  fiUk^Jhe  pMic  and  prioale  teA»-a  bU^f  mperimic$  m  (akti^f  1h§ 
ha(h    (iiMMHiyjiiWfcw^  tngiaJBoeM* 

Tbb  ottjy  is  divided  into  qtmrten,  the  Arabs  baving  their  quarter, 
the  Tttrks  theirs,  the  Jews  thdrs,  the  French  theirs,  the  Eoglish  theirs, 
the  Greeks  thdrs,  the  Armenians  theirs,  the  dogs  .theirs,  &(v,  dec 
At  the  entrance  to  each  qnarteris  abngegate,  wliichis  swung  npon  its 
ponderous  hinges  at  ei^  in  the  evening,  and  closed  for  the  ni^t  Besides 
these,  there  are  gates  to  various  passage  ways,  through  whish  alone 
oommunicadon  can  be  had  between  the  adjacent  parts  of  the  city,  and 
which  are  dosed  at  the  ssme  hour  for  the  night,  so  that  the  inhabitanti 
of  each  quarter,  and  each  small  sub-division  of  the  city,  ere  shut  up 
tlose,  at  that  earlj  hour,  for  safe  keeping  until  morning.  And  the  law 
not  only  requires  all  to  be  in  their  quarters  at  eight,  but  at  their  lodg* 
Ings  also  at  a  certain  hour  (i  think  not  later  than  ten,)  when  aU  issQent 
as  the  tomb,  save  when  the  stillness  is  broken  by  the  braying  of  anass^ 
or  the  howling  of  a  dog. 

Hie  Jews'  quarter  here,  as  every  where  else,  is  pre^min^t  for  ^tb» 
insomuch,  that  when  there  are  apprehensions  of  the  cholera,  the  first 
question  asked  is,  ^  whether  it  has  broken  out  in  the  Jews'  quarter?' 
And  yet  to  them  no  spot  on  earth  seems  so  beautiful,  except  Jenisa* 
lenL  I  suppose  there  is  a  peculiar  sacredness  about  it,  in  their  ^es, 
ss  the  residence  of  God's  chosen  people,  and  that  thus  strength  and 
sanctity  are  g^ven  to  their  local  attachments. 

A  most  extraordinary  instance  of  this  otherwise  unaccountable  par- 
tiality for  their  own  filtiiy  quarter,  has  been  related  to  me  hjere.  A 
young  Jewess  had  been  sent  by  her  wealthy  &ther,  for  a  temporary 
so^um,  to  New  York,  and  redeved  much  attention.  While  there,  she 
remarked,  in  conversation,  that  New  York  was  a  great  and  beautiful 
dty,  ^but  O!"  she  added,  with  a  deep  drawn  sigh,  ^the  Jews' quarter 
in  Cairo  is  not  here.*^ 

The  other  quarters  are  dean  only  bjr  oontrast,  that  is,  they  are  not 
'  as  filthy  as  the  Jews'  quarter,  but  as  dean  as  such  a  set  of  scavengers 
as  I  have  described,  aided  by  some  little  random  help  firom  indi^dosls 
interested,  can  make  them* 

in  i^|tnnge  contrast  to  this  geosral  neglectof  the  streets,  stand  the 
immerous  public  and  private  baths,  as  though  personal  desniiness  were 
a  virtue  in  high  esteem  among  the  people.  The  truth  is,  that  hailing 
is  required  by  the  Koran  as  an  indispensible  pre-requimte  to  worsUp, 
and  of  Qourse  must  be  performed  belm  the  mosque  is  entered^  Bj 
the  few  devoted  ones,  it  is  pnotioed  punctUiousIy, 


74  LAKD  OF  THE  PTIIAMID& 

But  frequent  bathing  here  is  as  much  required  by  the  christian's  bible, 
as  by  the  Mohammedan's  Koran,  for  there  is  no  other  way  possibly  in 
vluoh  one  can  keep  himself  pure,  not  only  from  eommon  filt^  butfrom^ 
a  still  more  annoying  companionship,  and  one  which  of  old  was  reck- 
oned among  die  plagues  of  the  land. 

And  taking  the  bath  here  is  no  child's  play.  Of  the  Yarious  al^ges 
to  be  gone  through,  however,  in  order  to  completeness,  some  are  gen- 
erally omitted,  the  more  elaborate  and  pmfUl  process  not  being  sub- 
mitted to.  But,  having  gone  through  ike  operation  comjdete  in  all  its 
parts,  I  can  speak  both  understandingly  and  f^UnffUf  up<Hi  the  aub- 
ject. 

I  was  (irst  shown  into  an  appartment  intensely  hot,  and  seated 
beside  the  baths,  where,  from  the  effects  of  the  steam,  I  broke  mto  a 
proUme  perspiration.  Hot  water,  9enMing  and  peeling^  oame  next, 
after  whidi  I  was  s^zed  by  the  operator,  who  commenced  wrin^Jig 
and  wreD<^ing  my  body,  and  cracking  my  joints,  until  it  seemed  as 
though  every  joint  in  me  was  cracked*.  ,  Iff  had  been  in  the  folds  of  an 
anaconda,  I  should  scarcely  have  been  more  fright^liy  cramped.  'Hiis 
alarming  process  being  over  widi,  he  fell  to  kneading  my  flesh  as  the 
houaewife  kneads  the  dough,  so  far  as  the  nature  of  the  case  would 
admit,  after  which  he  attacked  the  soles  of  my  feet  with  a  rasp^  made 
of  burnt  clay.  I  was  now  again  required  te  plunge  myself  into  one  of 
the  faatbs,  and  I  rejoiced  in  this  temporary  deliverance  from  my  tor- 
mentor. But  my  respite  was  short,  for  I  was  soon  summoned  back, 
and  required  to  floor  myself  and,  in  this  prostrate  condition,  I  was 
i^gain  seized,  rubbed  violently  with  soap  and  water,  and  scrubbed  down 
O  dear !  with  the  rough  fibrous  pith  of  the  palm  tree,  and  then,  sdtier 
taking  a  cooler  bath,  was  wiped  gently  with  a  towel.  To-crown  the 
whole,  I  was  kneaded  and  rasped  a  second  time,  when,  after  b^ng 
revived  by  a  cup  <^  coffee,  I  was  set  at  liberty,  a  renovated  being, 
floareely  knowing  whether  I  was  in  the  body  orout  of  tbe  body. 

Several  of  the  public  baths  are  appropriated  to  th$  exclusive  use  of 
women  and  children.  The  rich  have  private  baths  in  their  hooses,  but 
the  women  generally  resort  to  the  public  ones  for  pastime,  lliose  of 
different  harems  are  thus  brought  together,  and  they  spend  thair  time 
in  gossiping  and  matdi\naking,  the  mothers  keeping  a  sharp  lookout 
for  young  female  candidates  for  matrimony  suitable  for  their  aons,  and 
oarrying  on  their  negotiations  with  an  adroitness  and  manageaacnt 
eqwd  to  the  occasion.    It  is  an  important  pecuniary  transaction. 

HV)  supply  the  water  for  these  baths  and  for  other  purposes,  dieMia 
a  canal  whidi  traversiM  the  dty,  and  into  which  the  water  is  let  at  Iha 


AKKUAL  JUBHiBB.  Tfr 


time  of  each  annual  overflow,  accompanied  with  most  extraordinary 
domaDstratioQs  of  joy.  The  daily  rise  of  tbe  Nile  is  exactly  measwed 
by  a  graduated  pillar  at  the  Island  of  Bhoda,  called  a  Nilometw,  «and  is* 
proclidmed  by  criers  every  ftioming  in  the  streets  of  Cairo.  When  it 
has  risen  to  a  sufficient  height  to  be  let  into  the  canal,  there  is  a  gen- 
eral turn  out  of  the  inhabitants  to  witness  the  ceremony,  and  paliici- 
pate  in  the  general  jubilee.  Some  of  the  pfincipal  inhabitants  have 
boats  in  readiness,  ftlled  with  their  friends,  so  that  when  the  obstruc- 
tion  is  removed,  and  the  water  rushes  in,  the  boats  may  be  drawn  in 
with  it,  and  be  borne  along  with  the  rushing  tide  to  the  city,  and  thro' 
it,  amid  the  deafening  shouts  of  the  multitude. 

At  the  instant  the  water  breaks  through  into  the  canal,  the  Prime 
Minister  of  the  Pacha,  seated  on  high,  commences  throwing  handsful 
of  coin  into  the  air  to  fall  among  the  crowd,  and  then,  the  general  rush, 
and  ;scramble,  and  upsetting,  and  trampling  down  of  the  weak  by  the 
strong — ^the  frantic  joy  of  some,  and  the  woeful  dissappointment  of  Oth- 
ers— ^this  it  is  that  constitutes  the  sport.  And  it  were  well  if  it  ended 
here.  It  were  well  if  the  passion  for  the  tragical  could**  satiate  itself 
upon  the  keen  anguish  of  the  disappointed  ones.  But  no,  it  demands- 
blood,  and  to  gratify  it,  care  is  taken  by  this  functionary,  -that  some 
pieces  of  the  coin  shall  fall  into  the  rushing  waters,  to  induce  the  poof 
creatures  to  plunge  in  afler  it,  where  they  struggle  with  unavailing 
e£R>rt,  in  the  midst  of  the  deep  and  powerful  current ;  and  not  a  year 
passes,  I  am  told,  but  he  enjoys  the  luxury  of  seeing  some  of  them 
drowned  before  his  eyes,  and  laid  corpses  on  the  shore.  '1^ 

The  reservoirs,  little  lakelets,  &;c.,-  about  the  city  being  all  filnv 
before  the  falling  of  the  waters,  the  canal  is  left  high  and  dry  until  the 
next  annual  flood. 

Such  demonstrations  of  joy  may  seem  puerile  to  us,  and  yet  I  doubt 
whether  our  people  would  behave  with  much  more  propriety  under 
Mke  circumstances.  Even  when  we  are  afflicted  with  a  drouth  of  only 
a  few  weeks  continuance,  and  the  earth  only  begins  to  be  pardied^ 
what  murmerings  do  we  hear  1  What  impatience,  what  anxiety  is  ftlt, 
and  what  longings-  for  rain  go  forth  ?  and  when  at  last  the  predous 
drops  fall  from  the  clouds,  what  joy,  what  rapture  thrills  every  heart  f 

But  in  Egypt  there  is  one  continued  droutb  from  one  inundation  to 
anotJier,  tbe  earth  is  parched  and  cracked,  and  everything  is  dried  up 
(•xoept  where  recourse  is  had  to  artificial  irrigation)  the  very  timbers, 
fnmiture,  everything  becomes  warped  and  cracked.  What  aiudflty, 
"wbfit  longing  must  they  have  then  for  the  returning  flood  tide,  and 
when  at.last  it  comes,  what  wonder  that  it  should  be  hailed  wi&  ekp- 
pingB  and  sboutlngs,  and  the  sound  of  loud  tambrels ! 


H  LA5D  07  THB  FTRAlCIDa 


GHAFTBB  X 

—  • 

• 

Jkmi, — Who  ikey  vete,  tohtU  (key  did,  tmd  whai  A^  came  io. 

Ab  I  was  aso^iding  to  the  dtadel  of  Cairo,  located  in  the  rear  of  the 
town,  upon  a  spur  of  the  mountains  of  Mokattam,  there  opened  VLpon 
my  view,  with  startling  ^ect,  a  cluster  of  domes,  rising  out  of  the  des- 
ert^ about  two  miles  distant  fSrom  the  spot  where  I  stood.  It  was ''  the 
city  of  the  dead,*^  the  tombs  of  the  Mamalukes,  and  the  Qitadel  I  was 
i^proadiing,  is  the  memorable  spot  where  the  last  of  them  were  slaug^ 
tered  hj  Mohammed  AIL 

But  who  were  the  Mamalukes,  and  what  had  they  done  to  deaerv^ 
«ttoh  a  &te  }  I  wUl  pause  to  answer  this  question.  They  were  sue* 
oessively  the  slaves,  and  the  rulers  of  the  oountry.  In  the  lapse  of 
jome  fourteen  oentuiiee,  commencing  with  the  seventh  fi.  C,  Egypt 
tras  overrun  and  conquered  by  the  Babylonians,  the  PersiAs,  the 
Greeks,  the  Bomans,  and  the  Saracens  successively,  and  after  some 
^  centuries  more,  the  latter  were  compelled  to  change  places  with 
their  own  slaves,  the  Mamalukes,  who  had  been  brought  into  the  coim- 
try  firom  Oircassia,  in  the  previous  reign,  by  Saladin  the  Great,  because, 
as  a  usurper,  he  was  afraid  to  trust  the  natives  of  the  ooimtry  about 
bis  person.  And,  for  the  same  reason,  the  Mamalukes  themselyesi 
transported  slaves  from  the  same  country,  who  also,  at  the  end  of  tt 
hundred  and  twenty  years,  took  their  turn,  and  became  makers  of  the 

runtry. 
While  the  throne  became  theirs,  however,  the  Mamalukes,  as  beys 
of  districts,  still  continued  to  govern  the  country,  having  things  pretty 
much  their  own  way,  nor  did  the  conquest  of  the  country  by  the  Turks, 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  displace  them  from  power ;  and  down  to  the 
final  catastrophe  which  overwhelmed  them  in  the  citadel  of  Cairo,  (with* 
in  the  memory  of  many  of  us,)  they  conlanued  to  bear  unmitig^toA 
sway  in  their  respective  districts,  being,  in  &ct,  independent  despots, 
aave  that  they  were  accountable  to  the  Pacha  for  a  given  amount  of 
annual^  revenue,  which  they  promptly  collected,  and  as  promptly^ 
pocketed. 

It  was  under  their  rapadous  rule,  that  Egypt  sank  to  its  lowest 
state  of  debasement  As  beys,  they  practiced  the  most  waaton  oppres- 
sion upon  the  unresistang  natives  of  the  oountry.  Matters  hsd|;aQa 
on  from  bad  to  worse,  century  after  century,  until  it  verily  seemed^ 
than  the  lowest  dspths  to  which  a  people  could  be  reduced,  had  beea 
vsaohed.  When  Mohammed  Ali  cs^ne  into  power,  at  the  begiiming 
of  the  present  century,  he  saw,  at  a  glaooe,  that  thdre  was  neither  hope 


1CAS8A0BB  09  THB  KAlCALUESa  Tt 

for  himself  or  the  country,  while  these  petty  tyrants  retained  their 
power,  and  he  set  himself  resolutely  to  the  task  of  supplanting  thenu 
Attempts  had  before  been  made  to  abate  the  nuisance,  one  of  which 
is  worthy  of  notice.  It  was  just  at  the  time  the  British  arms  had  tri^ 
umphed  over  those  of  France  in  Egprpt,  and  the  beys  had  been  won 
over  to  ihe  British  interest,  that  Hassan  Pacha  laid  a  plan  for  their  des- 
truction. He  invited  them  to  a  sumptous  feast  at  Aboukir,  and  after 
the  feast,  he  proposed  an  excursion  to  the  bay  of  Aboukir,  having  pro- 
vided pleasure  boats  for  the  purpose ;  to  which  th^  consented,  and,  to 
quiet  ail  apprehension,  he  embarked  with  them  himself.  They  had  not 
proceeded  fiir,  however,  before  a  cutter  was  observed,  evidently  mak- 
ing an  effort  to  overtake  them ;  upon  which  the  Pacha  suggested,  that 
probably  an  envoy  from  the  Sultan,  with  despatches,  was  on  board, 
and,  &lling  back  until  it  came  up,  he  transferred  himself  to  its  deck, 
receiving  and  opening  what  seemed  to  be  the  despatches  he  had  antid* 
pated«.  By  this  time  the  little  fleet  was  &r  ahead,  and,  while  the  Pacha 
was  lingering,  as  the  beys  supposed,  to  read  his  dispatches,  they  entered 
the  bay  of  Aboukir,  and  before  they  were  aNxrare,  found  themselves  in 
the  midst  of  the  Turkish  fleet,  whidi  was  in  readiness  to  pour  upon 
them  a  murderous  fire.  A  great  portion  of  them  were  thus  slain  in 
oold  blood,  and  those  who  escaped  were  taken  prisoners,  and  com- 
pelled to  swear  upon  the  Koran  their  allegiance  to  the  Sultan,  to  the 
renunciation  of  all  foreign  influence. 

Tliis  terrible  blow,  inflicted  by  Turkish  treachery,  was  not  without 
eflRdCt,  and  yet,  upon  the  accession  of  Mohammed  All  to  power  in  1805, 
he  found  the  country  still  suffering,  apparently  to  as  great  an  extent  as 
ever,  imder  the  grinding  oppression  of  Mamaluke  rule,  and  the  beys  were 
well  aware,  that  he  meditated  their  destruction.  Joined  with  tlus  pur* 
pose,  Mohammed  had  little  scruple  as  to  tlie  means  he  employed,  semi* 
barbarian  as  he  was. 

These  turbulent  horse-men,  knowing  the  hostility  of  Mohammed  to 
their  order,  and,  dreading. his  vengeance,  had  opposed  his  elevation  to 
power ;  and,  after  his  induction  into  offioe,  they  hovered  about  Cairo 
in  a  threatening  attitude,  as^though  meditating  an  attack.  Nothing 
could  have  suited  Mohammed  better,  and  lest  they  should  not  carry 
out  their  design,  he  intrigued  with  the  Sheiks  friendly  to  him,  to 
encourage  the  beys  to  do  so,  with  a  view,  to  lead  Uiem  ^to  a  snare. 
Tliey  caught  at  the  bait,  and,  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  some 
camels,  they  rushed  in,  and,  dividing  themselves  into  two  bands,  and, 
striking  up  their  martial  music,  advanced,  in  the  ftdl  expectation  of  an 
easy  triumph-— when,  to  their  utter  consternation,  they  were  attadted 
from  all  quarters,  both  by  the  soldiers  of  Mohammed  and  the  ii 


78  ^  LAND  OF  THB  PTBAiaD& 

taniii^.  and  cut  to  piece*  without  mercy,  the  few  who  escaped  beiiig 
•dragged  fordi  from  their  hiding  places  and  slauf^tered.  Eighty-three 
•emiMdmed  heads  were  sent  as  trophies  to  Coustaiitiiiople. 

But  it  was  in  1811  that  the  crowtiing  scene  of  liorror  was  enaoted^a 
flcebe  which)  for  oold*blooded  atrocity,  has  few  paralkls  in  history, 
Tesolting  in  the  utter  destruction  of  this  hierarchy  in  Egypt — a  moet 
deisdrable  emd  accomplished  by  means  which  make  humanity  shudder. 

llie  fiivorite  son  of  the  Viceroy  was  to  be  invested  with  the  honors 
of  a  Pacha  of  the  second  order,  conferred  by  the  8ultan;  and  appi^ 
rently,  as  a  mark  of  special  friendship,  he  invited  all  the  beys  to  be 
present,  and  participate  in  the  festivities  of  the  occasion.  The  toisus- 
pecting  beys  appeared  accordingly  in  their  most  imposmg  uniform, 
offered  their  congratulations  upon  the  joyful  event,  and  were  received 
'vnA  great  apparent  cordiality,  the  viceroy  sitting  with  them  aoround 
4h6  festive  board,  conversing  and  making  merry- as  with  friends,  when 
at  the  same  time,  he  had  murderous  intentions  in  his  heart 

After  refreshment  had  been  served,  the  procession  was  formed,  witJt 
the  troops  of  the  Pacha  at  the  head,  for  the  purpose  of  making  their 
«xit  fh)m  the  citadel,  and,  just  as  they  were  passing  alon^a  deep  cut 
in  the  rock,  the  g&tes  were  closed  upon  them  behind,  and  with  the  troops 
l>efore  them,  they  were  completely  shut  in,  and  in  this  situation,  they 
were  attacked  by  the  soldiers  of  the  Pacha,  stationed  for  Uie  purpose, 
and  slaughtered  without  mercy.  There  lay,  weltering  in  their  own 
blood,  no  less  than  four  hundred  and  seventy  beys,  besides  their  attend^ 
ants,  one  only,  (who  had  not  come  up  in  season  to  join  the  procession) 
having  escaped  by  leaping  his  horse  down  a  precipice  and  fleeing  across 
the  desert 

The  few  left  in  the  country,  were  hunted  out  in  their  hiding  places, 
and  slain,  and  thus  ended  forever  the  long  catalogue  of  their  enormi- 
ties.    Another  cargo  of  embalmed  heads  was  sent  in  triumph  to  Con 
stantinople,  and  now  all  Egypt  lay  prostralb  beneath  the  iron  reign  of 
Mohammed. 

Passing  on  to  the  citadel,  my  attention  was  attracted  to  the  fetal 
chasm,  where  Uiis  tragedy  was  enacted.  I  extended  my  excursion  to 
the  impofflug  sepulchral  monuments  above  spoken  o^  reared  to  the 
memory  of  the  brave  mountaineers  who  bore  sway  over  the  valley  of 
the  Nile  for  more  than  six  hundred  years.  ^      ♦ 

These  structures  consist  of  domes,  arched  undc^eath,  and  resting* 
upon  massive  columns  at  each  comer,  reared  over  each  tomb,  and, 
like  all  Mahommedan  tombs,  are  of  a  snowy  whiteness.  GRtteringin 
thC'  sun,  they  must  onoe  have  presented  an  imposing  appearance. 


EGYPTO  QMkAJS  OAFEAIK.  T9 

— -^—^~^--^    ■ -■-        .  ■' 

GHAFTEBXL 

MoMifriai^  Mihcmmed  AU  eMr\fw7^/ert  meet  (he  eife^WJto  (Mb  remarJMtd  mail 
iiw»    nhitU  he  aeeompiiehed,  and  what  Ike  fged  vpon  Sgypi  of  hia  hmnng  Ihed, 

I  often  asked  the  question,  who  made  this  improvement,  and  who 
made  tl^tl  Makommed  Ali^  was  the  uniform  reply.  Traces  of 
the  genius  and  enterprise  of  Mahommed  All  are  everywhere  visible. 
But  who  was  Mahommed  Ali,  and  what  did  he  do  1  I  reply  that  thiff 
extraordinary  man,  the  Napoleon  of  Egypt,  was  of  Greek  parentage, 
of  humble  position,  and  rose,  by  the  simple  force  of  his  character,  to 
the  viceroy alty  of  Egypt,  which  dignity  he  atttakied  in  the  year  1805. 
Taking  into  consideration  the  degraded  character  of  the  people,  it 
may  well  be  conceived,  how  difficult  and  discouraging  was  the  task 
which  he  set  himself  to  accomplish,  and  which  was  no  less  thaa  to  el^ 
evate  Egypt  to  a  standing  among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

To  this  end,  one  of  his  first  acts  was  to  organize  an  army,  and  intro- 
duce European  discipline  and  tactics,  and  this  brought  him  into  colli- 
sion  at  once  with  the  Mamaluke  Beys,  who  saw  plainly  that,  if  he 
loooeeded,  their  power  was  at  an  end.  But  he  slaughtered  them  all  at 
a  blow,  as  I  have  described,  and  tiius  cleared  the  way  before  him. 

He  had  received  his  appointment  as  Viceroy  Yrom  the  Sultan — ^npoD 
him  he  made  war,  defeated  his  armies,  carried  his  victorious  arms  into 
Syria,  and  twror  to  the  very  gates  of  Constantinople ;  and,  but  for 
tbe  interposition  of  European  despots,  would  have  dictated  terms  to 
his- master  in  hia  own  pidaoe.  But,  as  it  was,  he  secured  the  suooes- 
aion  to  his  own  family,  with  only  a  nominal  dependence  on  Turkey. 
In  otfaer  directions  he  extended  his  victories,  and  established  his  aU- 
dionty,  along  the  enti^  Arabian  coast  of  the  Red  Sea,  from  t)ie  Isth* 
mm  of  Suez  to  the  Straits  of  Babelmandel,  and  up  the  valley  of  the 
Nile  to  Sennaar,  Darfur  and  Kardo&n. . 

He  adopted  the  military  code  of  more  civilized  nations,  partially 
abolished  the  bastinado  by  substituting  incarceration  and  hard  labor, 
and  ordained,  with  the  stamp  of  his  foot^  that  no  punishment  should 
be  iaffieted  without  a  r^ular  trial,  a  commandment  which  he  kept  or 
▼iolafted  at  pleasure,  but  which  not  another  functionary  ia  the  kingdom 
daved  to  disregai^d,  but  at  the  expense  of  his  head. 

Bfg^t  had  no  navy,,  and  no  timber  to  make  one,  but  he  created  onoi 
notvithatandlkig,  and  when  his  new-built  fleet  was  destroyed  by  Nel- 
aoHr  lA  tha  battle  of  Navarino^  he  replaced  it  with  one  still  more  pow- 
erfiily  eonsiatilig  of  niiiie  ships  of  the  liUe,  and  smaller  veasela  in  pro« 
poirtaon» 

Equally  hitent  was  he  upon  the  internal  improvement  of  the  coun- 


so  LAND  09  THB  FTBAHIDfiL 

try.  To  develope  ite  agrioultaral  resources,  he  dog  numerous  oanalfl, 
some  to  fiicilitate  transportation,  and  some  to  irrigate  the  lands ;  and 
among  them  the  great  ship  canal  of  ;which  I  have  spoken.  He  intro- 
duced the  culture  of  the  cotton  plant,  the  sugar  cane,  and  of  the  mul- 
berry tree. 

To  encourage  and  develope  these  important  brandies  of  agriculture, 
and  at  the  same  time  make  the  country  independent  of  European  na- 
tions, he  established  cotton  and  silk  manu&ctories,  and  sugar  refine- 
ries, and,  with  his  cheap  labor,  was  able  to  compete  with  his  European 
competitors  in  their  own  markets,  and  even  in  the  market  of  Calcutta. 

He  introduced  a  r^ular  educational  system,  embradng  all  stages, 
from  the  primary  school  to  the  university,  and  the  plan  of  instruction 
in  the  latter  was  fiur  in  advance  of  that  of  most  institutions  of  the 
kind  in  more  enlightened  countries,  for  eadi  student  could  pursue  a 
course  best  adapted  to  fit  him  for  his  contemplated  calling  in  life, 
whether  military,  naval,  commercial,  mercantile,  mechanical,  agricul- 
tural, or  professional.  To  revive  the  science  of  medicine,  to  which  no 
attention  had  been  given  for  centuries  in  Egypt  he  caused  some  of  the 
most  celebrated  European  medical  works  to  be  translated  into  Arabic 
And  he  not  only  established  medical  schools  for  the  instruction  of  the 
ignorant,  but  hospitals  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering. 

The  different  departments  of  government  were  ccmducted  by  ooun* 
cils  appointed  by  himself. 

Such  is  an  outline  of  the  gigantic  schemes  of  reform  which  this  won- 
derful man  attempted,  and  actually  set  on  foot,  but  the  mainspring  to 
the  whole  movement  gave  way  at  hisdeath,  and  its  place  could  not  be 
supplied  in  Egypt,  nor  could  competent  men  be  found  in  the  country 
to  carry  out  his  great  designs  in  the  various  departments.  Still  Egyjyft 
is  vastiy  the  better  for  his  having  lived,  and,  could  he  have  had  sucoes- 

4 

sors  as  competent  as  himself^  important  results  to  the  country  mus% 
have  followed. 

But  the  darker  shades  of  the  picture  are  yet  to  be  dra^fn.  Of  Ids 
butchery  of  the  Mamalukes,  with  its  accompanying  extenuations  and 
aggravations,  I  have  already  spoken.  I  have  also  said  that  he  had  no 
scruples  in  violating  his  own  decrees,  when  a  similar  act  would  haive 
imperilled  the  head  of  any  subject,  however  exalted.  His  mandate 
that  no  punishment  should  be  inflicted  without  a  r^;ular  trial,  was  am 
a  spider's  web  to  him.  Upon  being  informed,  that  a  Jew  broker  had 
violated  a  regulation  he  had  made'in  respect  to  coin,  he  said  prompHy, 
^^  let  him  be  hanged,''  and  the  poor  Jew  paid  the  forfeit  He  was  not 
often,  however,  guilty  of  such  enormities. 


SKETCHES  Of  BORDIit  UFS.  H 


SKETCHES  OF  BORDER  LIFE. 


BT  A  CITTL  BOimn. 


CHAPTER  IL 

An  Iowa  hoielf  heautu  cf  (Ae  ctmnkry^  oditpedea'of  nov^^o^iofi,  ^wittin^  jMir%,  JRnm 
ladi/es^  auperior  (y^iowiagea  fcr  ftmaiA  education^  oti/ects  in  vieWf  a  nigki  alone  <m  flW 
prairie  with  the  wolves^  arrival  at  the  campj  description  of  ii^  dmfier,  my  compote 


The  reader  left  me  standing  at  the  dooi;  of  au  Iowa  hotel,  at  one 
o'clock^  of  a  dark  night,  in  the  midst  of  an  almost  unbroken  forest^  aii4 
suffering  a  rebuff  from  the  merciless  landlord,  who  had  no  room  for  me» 
But  I  was  too  old  a  campaigner  to  be  put  off  in  that  way.  I  told  him 
U>  give  me  the  bar-room  floor,  and  asked  a  buffalo  skin  which  I  saw 
Ijing  by,  for  a  bed«  Upon  this  he  climbed  a  ladder,  and,  making  a 
«tir  among  the  snorers  over  head,  soon  summoned  me  up,  by  thrust- 
ing his  head  down,  and  crying  out,  hurrah  there  !  I  mounted  the  lad- 
der after  him,  and  soon  deposited  myself  in  the  warm  receptacle  made 
vacant  for  my  accommodation — not  to  sleep,  (there  were  too  many 
prompters  to  wakefulness  for  that) ,  but  to  wear  the  night  away  in 
watching  for  the  morning. 

The  break&st  table  was  honored  with  the  presence  of  a  lady,  who 
seemed  to  think  that  she  had  been  accustomed  to  better  things,  and, 
after  ^condemning  each  dish  in  turn,  and  remarking  upon  every  thing 
about  the  house,  she  left  the  break^t  to  me.  I  made  out  my  meal 
on  bread  and  molasses,  not  a  worse  bill  of  fare^  by  any  means,  than  I 
had  often  met  with  before  at  western  taverns,  and  engaged  a  teamster 
to  carry  me  into  the  country.- 

Our  road  lay  for  a  time  along  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  and  in  full 
▼iew  of  that  rioble  stream*  It  was  a  lovely  morning,  and  all  nature 
seemed  alive  with  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  The  woods  resounded  wit)i 
the  songs  of  the  feathered  warblers,  and  the  great  river  rolled  silent^ 
and  majestically  on  in  resistless  Qow  \  the  same  mighty  torrent  thai 
liad  chaffed  within  its  banks  through  oJl  past  ages,  and  changed,  in  none 
of  its  essentials,  since  the  time  wl^en  the  solitary  canoe  of  Father  Maf- 
^uette  floated,  for  hundreds  of  miles,  down  its  ever  moving  tide»  witb- 
oat  the  sight  of  a  numan  jSice  \  or  when  the  visionary  De  Soto,  seeking 
that  £1  Dorado  that  ever  gleamed  in  the  eyesof  Spanish  Adventurei:^ 
£>ud4  nwi^H  except  ^  lonely  ^ve  beneath  its  turbid  waters.    Noir 


83  SKETCHES  OF  BORDER  LIFE. 

■  II  I  I  ■  ■!      ■  <  n  ,  ■  I  .  , 

the  hum  of  civilization  resounds  upon  its  banks,  and  tUe  merrj  song  of 
the  former's  boy  succeeds  the  war  cry  of  the  once  powerful  "  Illinois." 
Involuntarily  I  exclaimed,  '^  It  is  a  glorious  country."  '^  I  reckon  it  is, 
hoss,  and  they's  heaps  of  right  purty  gals  in  it,"  said  a  voice,  spoken 
right  in  my  ear,  and  breaking  in  upon  my  reverie,  reminding  me  for 
the  thousandth  time,  that  there  is  but  a  step  from  the  sublime  to  the 
ridiculous.  It  was  the  driver  that  expressed  this  sage  opinion,  and, 
doing  him  no  injustice,  it  was  the  only  ludd  idea  he  seemed  to  have  in 
regard  to  the  natural  advantages  of  his  native  state. 

Turning  suddenly  from  the  river  and  passing  through  a  belt  of  tim- 
ber, we  entered  upon  a  fine  section  of  country,  embracing  the  blu£&  of 
the  Mississippi  and  Iowa  rivers,  some  four  or  five  miles  above  the  con> 
fiuence  of  those  two  streams.  A  fine  succession  of  broken  and  prairie 
country  presented  itself,  as  we  rode  along,  now  buried  in  deep  ravines, 
and  then  emerging  upon  the  most  beautiful  stretches  of  prairie,  covered 
with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  grass,  much  of  which  was  of  such  a  height, 
that  a  man  sitting  on  horseback  could  easily  tie  it  in  a  knot  over  his 
head.  We  ci:088ed  the  Iowa  river  by  a  species  of  navigation  entirely 
new  to  me,  and  peculiar  to  the  country,  the  ferry  boat  being  propelled 
in  this  wise — a  large  rope  was  stretched  across  the  river,  about  twenty 
feet  above  the  ^ater,  upon  which  a  sliding  pulley  was  made  to  run  the 
whole  length.  From  this,  a  line  was  run  through  a  pulley  at  one  end 
of  the  boat,  thence  to  the  centime,  where  it  passed  two  or  three  times 
'  around  a  windlass,  then  through  a  pulley  at  the  other  end,  and  back  to 
the  sliding  pulley  again.  By  turning  the  windlass  at  the  centre,  the 
boat  was  placed  in  an  oblique  position  to  the  current,  which,  acting 
upon  the  side  presented,  speedily  drove  it  across,  a  distance  of  some 
"one  hundred  and  fifly  yards.  The  whole  thing  was  so  ingenious  and 
worked  so  well,  that  it  excited  my  admiration,  I  afterwards  found  it 
very  common  in  the  country. 

Arrived  at  head  quarters,  I  was  informed  that  the  party  I  was  in 
quest  of,  was  in  the  country,  some  ten  miles  to  the  westward.  Hav- 
ing provided  myself  with  some  necessary  articles,  such  as  boots,  and  a 
pair  of  blankets,  I  engaged  a  passage  with  a  &rmer,  accomplished  that 
distance,  and  found  that  they  had  gone  on,  but  no  one  knew  whither. 

I  decided  upon  leaving  my  ba^age  at  a  &rm  house  near  by,  and 
proceeding  on  foot,  as  there  was  no  conveyance  to  be  had  at  any  price. 
Upon  approaching  the  premises,  I  was  notified  by  a  confusion  of  sounds 
proceeding  from  the  house,  that  something  of  an  unusual  nature  was 
going  on.  The  reader  need  not  anticipate  an  adventure,  however,  for 
it  was  nothing  more  than  the  clatter  of  female  tongues,  but  if  he  will 
imagine  a  '^  convertaziorui*^  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  guinea  heus,  more  or 


IOWA  LADna  83 


less,  seated  in  a  row  on  a  fence,  and  each  Individual  guinea  hen  doing 
her  best — ^he  will  find  an  adequate  parallel  to  mj  quilting  party,  for  it 
W9S  nothing  more  or  less  than  this  fiivorite  institution  of  the  ladies ; 
which  is  only  "  country  parlance^'  for  the  "  sewing  circle,"  of  their  city 
sisters,  and  which,  I  take  it,  means,  to  &bricate  bibs  and  tuckers  for 
the  natives  of  '^  Borioboola  Gha,"  and  eat  all  the  good  things  that  the 
kostess  can  furmsh ;  pulling  their  neighbors  to  pieces  in  the  mean  time. 
Tliis  explanation  resolved  itself  before  my  wondering  eyes,  as  I  walked 
through  the  front  door  into  the  best  room,  and  found  myself  exposed 
to  a  battery  of  black,  blue,  grey,  and  all  other  manner  of  bright  eyes ; 
no  enviable  situation  for  a  bashful  young  man.  The  assembly,  how- 
ever, fiilly  verified  the  assertion  of  my  "  coachee"  of  the  morning,  that 
there  were  ^'  heaps  of  right  purty  gals"  in  Iowa,  and  gave  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  judging  for  myself.  Their  rattling  tongues  became  silent  as 
the  grave,  the  moment  I  entered,  and  remained  so  till  I  left ;  but  the 
demure  faces  that  were  intent  upon  the  quilting,  showed  plainly  that 
they  were  not  unaware  of  the  scrutiny  to  which  they  were  being  sub- 
jected, as  I  stood  in  the  door,  conversing  with  the  landlady,  and  were 
not  altogether  easy  under  it.  Their  curiosity  was  evidently  excited, 
as  they  knew  very  well  by  my  manner  of  speaking,  dress,  and,  to  them, 
queer  looking  instruments,  that  I  was  a  stranger,  and  from  a£u*.  The 
flihawl  that  I  wore,  after  a  fashion  that  had  never  been  heard  of  in  that 
oountry,  attracted  particular  attention,  which  was  manifested  by  sundry 
nudges  of  the  elbow  among  themselves,  but  not  an  eye  was  raised,  but 
was  quickly  dropped,  as  soon  as  it  met  mine. 

Finding  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  '^  scrape  an  acquaintance,"  in 
'which  I  was  not  disappointed  however,  as  I  knew  from  experience  that 
border  girls  never  will  speak  to  a  stranger,  especially  if  he  is  young, 
any  further  than  to  say  "yes,"  or  "no,"  I  turned  to  leave.  As  I 
expected,  before  I  got  half  way  to  the  gate,  they  were  all  at  the  open 
-windows,  making  their  observations  in  turn,  and  some  remarks  reached 
my  ears,  not  very  complimentary  to  masculine  wearers  of  shawls. 
Determined  to  put  a  stop  to  this,  I  faced  about,  and  raising  my  hand, 
with  the  finger  pointing  to  them,  commenced  to  count,  with  a  motion 
of  the  hand  at  each  word,  the  number  of  pretty  noses  that  filled  the 
two  windows,  I  got  no  further  than  three,  when  ail  disappeared  like  a 
flash,  but  as  I  walked  through. the  gate,  a  stick  of  wood  came  whizzing 
part  my  head. 

This  was  my  first  introduction  ta  Iowa  ladies,  but  not  the  last ;  nei 
ther  did  I  fmd  them  all  disposed  to  throw  dubs  by  way  of  introduction* 
Iowa  is  surpassed  by  no  state,  in  the  beauty,  intelligence,  and  vivadtj  ^ 
Tof  itB  ladies,  and  is  equalled  by  none  in  the  &cilities  it  a£R>rds  for  their 


M  SKETCHES  OF  BORDEB  LITB. 

education  and  training  in  all  the  arts  and  sci^ioes.  She  possesses  tbe 
only  female  institution  in  the  Union  that  is  founded  upon  the  broad 
basis  of  a  University.  In  this  institution  provisions  are  made  for  tiie 
attainment  of  seventeen  distinct  professorships,  and  eighte^  spedes^of 
diplomas,  ranging  from  the  lowest  to  .the  highest^;  fromjthe  trades  that 
are  commonly  considered  as  within  woman's  province,  to  the  logical 
and  esthetical  sciences,  combining  also  manual  labor,  by  which  those 
who  choose  to  do  so,  can  gain  a  superior  education,  at  the  same  time, 
enjoying  the  healthful  physical  exercise  which  is  essential  to  the  mental 
and  bodily  comfort  of  the  student  This  institution  is  located  at  Daven- 
port, on  the  Mississippi  river,  opposite  Rock  Island,  and  one  hundred 
and  eighty  miles  west  of  Giicago,  under  the  title  of"  Davenport  Female 
University."  Another  institution  at  the  same  place  deserves  particu- 
lar notice,  embracing  as  it  does  a  course,  intended  to  prepare  young 
ladies  for  the  active,  practical  duties  of  life,  combining  the  mental, 
moral,  and  physical,  and  which  must  place  the  enterprising  young  bacb 
elors  of  the  East,  who  are  seeking  their  fortunes  in  the  West,  under 
everlasting  obligations  for  die  good  vfives  it  will  furnish  them.  I 
allude  to  the  "  Ladies'  College,"  of  Davenport.  The  I.  O.  of  O.  P. 
have  under  their  immediate  auspiceg  a  '^  Collegiate  Institute"  at  Iowa 
City,  designed  for  the  free  education  of  the  indigent  orphan  daughters 
of  the  Order.  There  are  also  many  other  female  institutions  in  tiie 
State,  as  at  Bloomington,,Keokuk,  Mt.  Vernon,  and  Mt.  Pleasant.  At 
the  latter  place  the  ''High  School  and  Female  Academy"  has  an 
attendance  of  two  hundred  and  forty-five  students. 

Asking  the  reader's  pardon  for  the  digression  into  whidi  I  have  been 
led  by  a  justifiable  enthusiasm  in  favor  of  Iowa  ladies,  I  will  return  to 
my  story.  Leaving  my  luggage  to  be  examined  at  leisure  by  the  &ir 
bevy,  and  taking  only  a  blanket  with  me,  I  traveled  on  afoot,  for  mai^ 
a  weary  mile,  enquiring  by  the  way,  and  finding  an  occasional  trace  of 
those  of  whom  I  was  in  search.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to  keep  the 
track,  as  the  prairie  was  entirely  open,  with  the  exception  c^now  sad 
then  a  house  and  small  &rm  enclosed.  Sometrimea  miles  would  be 
passed  without  any  signs  of  human  habitation.  Occasionally  a  white 
object  would  attract  my  attention,  miles  away  on  the  pnurie,  and  I 
would  imagine  I  had  found  the  t^its  I  was  looking  for,  but  a  nearer 
approach,  or  the  use  of  a  powerful  tdescope,  which  I  never  was  wHIi- 
out,  revealed  the  house  of  some  settler,  who,  more  ambitious  diBB  lUi 
neighbors,  had  given  his  domicil  a  coat  of  white  paint.  I  was  attracted 
in  Una  way  by  one  house  from  a  distance,  which  I  afterwards  aaoev- 
tained  to  be  fiill  eight  milee,  and  yet  it  was  distinctly  to  be  seen  with 
the  naked  eye,  so  dear  ia  the  atmoapfaere  and  unobatraoted  the Viaeo; 
on  the  prairiea. 


A  NIGHT  OK  THE  PRAIBIB.  S6 

J ■  ■  '■ ■■■.     I      .  ■      -  !■  II  I         I  ■     ■^ 

'  ■     —  I  ■        —  .  .  I 

There  were,  as  yet,  no  signs  of  the  object  of  my  seaipch.  I  had 
miked  something  like  twenty  miles  since  noon,  and  made  my  supper 
on  a  large  water-melon,  which  I  had  appropriated  out  of  thousands 
I  had  found  in  a  cornfield,  long  since  left  behind,  and  my  bed  for  the 
night,  I  saw  ^read  in  fine  profusion,  as  fiur  the  eye  could  reach.  I  stood 
in  no  dread  of  my  extemporaneous  lodgings,  however,  as  some  years 
txperience  in  prairie  life  had  made  me  fiilly  acquainted  with  the  vir- 
tues of  prune  grass,  as  a  promoter  of  sleep.  Drawing  out  my  tele- 
scope, I  adjusted  the  focus,  and  proceeded  to  examine  l^e  country  once 
more,  in  search  of  some  signs  of  civilization.  There  was  a  house  or 
two  within  the  range  of  the  glass,  but  a  long  distance  off,  and  not  worth 
tlie  labor  of  attaining,  for  the  sake  of  sleeping  in  the  garret,  which  is 
generally  pretty  much  the  same  thing  as  the  open  air.  A  fiock  of  tur- 
key buzzards,  circling  slowly  and  majestically  around,  a  covey  of  wild 
geese,  that  gabbled  noisily  to  one  another,  as  they  dove  the  lur  on 
tiheir  way  to  some  distant  slough  or  water  course,  and  an  occasional 
jraven,  as  he  rushed  by  with  a  wild  scream,  were  the  only  signs  of  life. 
As  the  sun  sank  from  sight,  I  wrapped  my  blanket  around  me,  and 
stretching  myself  upon  the  ground  where  I  stood,  I  courted  the  sleep 
rendered  welcome  by  the  fJEktigues  of  the  day.  1  was  startled  now  and 
them  from  my  first  light  slumbers  by  the  sharp  quick  bark  of  the  prai- 
rie wolf,  as  he  emerged  from  his  hole,  and  pattered  away*  through  the 
darkness ;  but  slumber  soon  became  too  powerful  for  even  this,  and 
when  I  awoke,  the  sun  was  shining  bright  and  warm.  I  had  a  fiunt 
recollection  of  something  sniffing  around  me  in  the  night,  as  thou^  a 
prairie  wolf  had  attempted  a  closer  acquaintance,  but  a  lusty  kick  had 
sent  him  scampering  away,  probably  ilisappointed  to  find  that  I  was  not 
oarrion,  and  I  slept  on  undisturbed  till  morning. 

My  toilet  "was  performed  by  running  my  fingers  through  my  hair  to 
«lear  it  of  prairie  grass,  morning  ablutions  were  omitted  for  want  of 
water,  and  break&st  for  want  of  material-  Picking  up  my  blanket  I 
resumed  my  journey,  the  main  object  in  view  being  to  procure  a  break- 
fiist.  This  I  found  a  few  miles  further  on  at  a  &rm  house,  and  laid  iti 
a  good  stock  of  pork,  potatoes  and  bad  coffee.  From  information  that 
I  recieved  here,  I  concluded  that  I  was  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  party,  as  the  old  lady  said  she  had  ^^  heard  a  heap  o*  yellin',  and 
teen  some  fellers  t^irin'  round  on  the  prarary  "the  day  before,  but  she 
was  entirely  at  a  loss  to  know  **  what  on  arth  they  were  up  to.*'  My 
suspicions  were  confirmed  as  !  stood  in  the  door  ready  to  depart,  by 
sounds  that  sal&ted  my  ears,  apparently  from  a  deep  ravine  a  couple 
0f  miles  to  the  westward.  The  vrind  was  blowing  gently  towards  me, 
And  brought  sounds  wi&  great  distinctness,  and  if  my  ears  deceived 


86  SKETCHES  OF  BOBDBB  IJFK, 

"J  '"  ■  .   ■  » 

me  not,  it  was  the  good  old  tune  of  *'  Old  Hundred,'*  sung  hj  many 
Toioes,  and  with  fiiU  parts  of  treble,  tenor,  and  bass.  The  thought 
crossed  mj  mind  that  I  had  found  those  I  was  in  search  o^  but  then 
that  solemn  tune !  I  had  heard  many  a  song  by  railroaders,  but 
I  regret  to  saj,  none  of  that  sort.  Might  it  not  be  some  band  of  pious 
emigrants  from  Indiana,  or  the  Buckeye  state,  on  their  way  to  a  home 
in  Kansas  or  Oregon  1  Perhaps;  but  then  it  did  not  seem  to  have  just 
the  genuine  ring  about  it,  and  now  that  I  listened  closer,  I  thought  thai 
I  detected  an  occasional  dash  of  '^  Uncle  Ned ''  and  ^  Jordan  is  a  hard 
road  to  travel,"  as  though  some  one  had  started  ofF  on  an  independent 
line.  This,  together  with  an  order,  given  in  a  loud  voice,  which  sounds 
ed  very  much  like  '^  Hold  that  flag  plumb,"  decided  me,  and  I  made  all 
speed  for  the  spot.  ^ 

My  suspicions  were  soon  confirmed  by  the  sight  of  a  number  of 
men  straggling  down  the  ravine,  bearing  the  fomlLiar  flag  pole,  chain 
and  axe,  and  nearer  by,  the  Transit  and  engineer  in  charge,  lliese 
objects  gave  me  a  new  life,  and  an  itdiing  of  the  fingers  toge^  hold  of 
the  instruments,  and  be  at  it  once  more,  as  of  old. 

Approaching,  I  received  a  warm  welcome,  and  directions  to  the 
camp,  which  was  about  two  miles  away.  I  remuned  a  short  time,  to 
watch  the  proceedings,  and  scan^the  countenances  of  my  future  com* 
rades,  and  then  turned  away  in  the  direction  of  the  camp. 

The  gleaming  of  the  white  tents,  as  they  shone  in  the  rays  of  a 
bright  morning  sun,  attracted  my  attention,  as  I  first  lefl  the  party^ 
and  directed  me  to  the  camping  ground,  in  the  edge  of  a  dump  of  tim* 
ber  that  bordered  the  bed  of  a  creek,  at  that  time  nearly  dry,  and  the 
ravines  connected  with  which,  the  party  were  then  engaged  in  explo* 
ring. 

This,  like  most  of  the  creeks  and  rivers  of  Iowa,  ran  through  a 
ravine,  or  succession  of  ravines,  the  bottom  of  which  is  from  twenty* 
five  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  below  the  level  of  the  general  sur&oe 
•f  the  prairie.  This  descent  is  so  gradual  as  to  attract  little  notice  firom 
the  casual  observer ;  sloping,  perhaps,  the  distance  of  from  half  a  mile 
to  a  mUe,  each  way,  but  is  altogether  too  abrupt  for  railroad  purposes^ 
their  maximum  grade  being  from  fifly  to  sixty  feet  to  the  mile. 

•This  renders  an  accurate  exploration  of  the  country  necessary,  to- 
find  ravines  and  ^*  breaks "  through  which  the  proper  grade  may  be. 
laid,  and  the  main  ravine  crossed  with  the  least  expense  in  grading^ 
and  bridging,  and  is  attended,  oftentimes  with  much  la^r  and  no  little 
trouble. 

Making  my  way  through  the  undergrowth  to  the  camping  place,  I 
entered  one  of  the  tents,  and  throwing  myself  on  the  ground,  aooQ 


CAMP  LIFE.  8* 


domestacated  myself,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  cool  breeze  and  grate- 
ful shade,  found  a  pleasant  contrast  to  the  burning  heat  of  the  opei^ 
prairies.  A  pile  of  watermelons  caught  my  eye  as  I  entered,  and  sei- 
zing one,  I  commenced  operations  upon  it.  Another,  and  another  wer& 
demolished  before  I  was  fully  satisfied,  and  at  leisure  to  m&ke  a  dose, 
examination  of  the  surroundings.  The  cook,  the  sole  occupant  of  the 
camp,  expressed  his  opinion  that  I  was  '*  some "  on  watermelcms^ 
with  the  forther  invitaticm  to  ^'  let  in,''  as  he  knew  the  whereabouts  of 
plenty  more. 

The  camp  consisted  of  two  tents,  one  of  which  was  enclosed  all 
around,  for  sleeping,  and  another  which  answered  the  purpose  of  a. 
kitchen,  and  was  open  at  the  ends.  Sundry  heaps  of  blankets,  carpet 
sacks,  old  boots  and  hats,  heaped  in  promiscuous  confusion,  composed 
tiie  furniture  of  the  first,  while  the  latter  was  fiimished  with  a  small 
sheet-iron  stove,  a  camp  chest,  provision  box,  and  numerous  jugs  and 
bottles  scattered  around ;  a  couple  of  half  consumed  hams,  which  were 
pendant  from  a  tree  outside,  adding  a  practical  effect  to  the  picturesqe^ 
which  had  predominated  in  my  mind  during  this  brief  survey.  A 
couple  of  rifles,  and  three  or  four  shot  guns,  hung  in  a  rack,  which  was 
made  by  driving  two  small  saplings  into  the  ground,  the  branches  or 
which  were  left  the  right  length  for  pegs,  being  hung  around  also  with 
powder  flasks  and  shot  bags.  This,  together  with  numerous  coon, 
squirrel,  and  mink  skins,  stretched  up  to  dry,  and  some  half  a^ozen 
dogs,  of  all  species,  from  the  sturdy  bull  dog  to  the  lithe  and  graceful 
grey  or  blood  hound,  gave  the  place  the  appearance  of  a  hunting  lodge. 

The  cook  was  busy  in  his  tent,  in  the  concoction  of  a  squirrel  pie, 
to  which  I  anticipated  doing  full  justice  at  dinner.  Altogether,  things 
had  a  very  comfortable  look,  and  gave  a  promise  of  a  fine  time  and 
good  living. 

Meantime  I  laid  back  on  the  ground,  and  peering  listlessly  through 
the  foliage  at  the  sky  and  fleeting  clouds,  amused  myself  with  queer 
fiindes  and  novel  antidpations,  till  my  reveries  were  disturbed  by  the 
voice  of  the  cook,  summoning  the  party  to  dinner  with  a  whoop  that 
awakened  the  echoes,  rung  down  the  ravine,  was  caught  up  by  nearest 
within  hearing,  and  repeated  by  each  straggler,  till  all  had  caught 
and  answered  the  sunmions. 

Soon  they  came  panting  in,  with  coats  off,  and  shirts  open  in  front, 
to  catdi  the  cool  breeze,  and  glad  to  find  a  shade  and  a  pile  of  deli- 
dously  cool  watermelons  to  occupy  their  attention  while  dinner  was 
being  served.  There  were  nine  in  all,  including  the  teamster,  who  drove 
a  pair  of  little  rats  of  mules,  that  looked  as  though  they  were  lost 
under  the  big|dutdi  harness,  and'  the  Pennsylvania  wagon,  to  which 
they  were  the'^appurtenances. 


8KBTGHBS  OF  JBORD^R  IIFB. 


In  the  coarse  of  the  dinner,  (during  which  I  realized  my  antidpi^ 
tiotts  in  regard  to  the  squirrel  pie,)  I  found  by  remaiidng  Ae  aooeofti 
provincialisms,  and  twang  of  the  different  persons  seated  aromifl 
file  l>oard,  that  the  party  consisted  of  a  Kentackian,  two  Missomriaai, 
two  Virginians,  two  Yankees,  and  one  or  two  New  Yorkers.  To  those 
iriw)  are  in  the  habit  of  observing  closely  the  peculiarities  of  speech, 
and  general  manners  and  customs  of  the  different  states,  such  a  mode 
of  discriminating  is  comparatively  easy.  Hie  peculiarities  may  be 
very  slight,  but  they  are  sure  to  exist,  and  just  as  sure  to  show  them- 
selves sufficiently  plain  for  detection,  affording,  sometimes,  much  food 
Ibr  speculation.  Especially  so  is  it  in  Iowa,  the  population  of  which 
is  composed  of  all  nations,  and  a  &ir  representation  of  every  state  in 
file  Union. 

The  Kentuckian,  Fred,  filled  the  responsible  position  of  eodc,  a^ 
general  factotum,  and  was  a  bragging,  blustering  sort  of  a  fellow,  idfii 
a  good  deal  of  talk  and  not  much  fight ;  very  harmless  and  good  tem- 
pered, if  kept  in  the  right  place.  He  thought  there  was  no  place  Ifte 
**  Lewyvilie,^*  and  had  been  present  at  the  riots  of  that  place,  if 
which  he  told  large  yams.  He  had,  for  a  man  of  his  stamp,  a  singti- 
br  predilection  for  fine  clothes,  and  generally  cooked  in  broaddotk 
pants,  fancy  veelt,  and  fine  boots.  His  means  of  obtaining  iSiem  wae 
iomewhat  a  matter  of  doubt,  until  some  months  after,  when  he  left  for 
Kentucky,  and  left  also,  about  two  htfndred  dollars  at  unpaid  btUii 
Irith  credulous  merchants  whom  he  had  managed  to  delude  to  tbat 

The  Missourians,  Geoif  e  and  Jerry,  were  hard  looking  customersy 
evidently  not  efidowed  With  any  too  much  learning  or  good  breeding. 
The  two  Virginians  were  droll  fellows,  whose  principal  amusements 
jrere,  playing  practical  jokes  upon  one  another,  such  as  putting  dead 
snakes  into  each  other^s  boots,  and  tobacco  cuds  in  the  coffee.  The 
younger,  ''Elim,^^  a  boy  of  about  seventeen,  was  much  the  fkstest  talker, 
and  generally  kept  the  party  in  a  roar  with  his  original  and  droU 
remarks  on  everything  that  offered  a  fair  mark,  while  his  fi-iend  ^Levf* 
wrought  comparisons  that  would  have  disturbed  the  gravity  of  an 
andiorite.  Of  his  propensities  I  saw  a  &ir  specimen  as  we  rose  ftom 
the  table.  He  was  an  inveterate  tobacco  chewer,  which  quality  avuled 
him  on  this  occasion  to  good  advantage,  and  in  a  way  that  nobody  but 
Idmself  would  ever  l)ave  thought  of.  Jerry  the  Miasourian,  as  I  was 
informed,  was  a  sort  of  half  witted  fellow,  always  doing  and  saying 
foolish  things,  when  he  was  in  good  humor,  and  was  exceedingly  snrly 
when  the  contrary  was  the  case.  Among  other  foolish  practioes,  when 
be  was  hiclined  to  be  jocular,  he  had  a  way  of  bringing  his  physlcfg- 


iSEVJQCni  OS  TKAVELB^  AJSTD  TBATBLBB8. 


namij  m  dose  proxiinity  to  tke  fiuse  of  another  person,  and  opening  faia 
flMmUi  to  its  lull  capacity,  (ao  oapaeious  that  Elim  proposed  advHiiig 
Ae  €QtB|Miqr  to  rent  it  ^  a  d^poi,)  he  would  utter  a  roar  as  -stnntung 
mm  amaB  eartiMpiaJce.  Levi  thought  it  was  a  nuKsanoe,  and  ahooldbie 
ahatoQ,  and  had  made  his  amingements  aooordittgly.  An  opportunity 
prowmted  itaelf  on  this  oecasion,  and  when  Jerry's  moutiiwaa  strebohed 
to  Hb  widest  oapaeity,  in  close  proximity  to  his  own,  Levi  suddenly 
emptied  an  enormous  tabaeoo  i^d  half  way  down  his  throat,  whidi 
ff09f)d  an  eifeotoal  stopper  to  all  further  attempts  at  jocularity,  and 
wMdh,  as  he  was  not  a  diewer  himself  did  good  sernoe  as  an  eiaekia. 
A  mar  Mlowed  from  the  company,  but  nof'a  wrmkk  disturbed  the 
tee  of  the  incorrigible  wag.  who  had  perpetrated  the  jcke. 

T-hb  Yankees  were  Mr.  Roberts,  a  staid,  hard  working  farmer  frcm 
tlie  rock  beds  of  New  Hampdiire,  who  was  hunting  land  in  lowa^  mA 
who  was  the  most  valuable  man  in  the  party,  and  a  young  Bchool* 
ilMMter  by  the  name  of  Campbell,  of  a  taoitum  dispositioin,  and  unso- 
cial iBttamers.  These,  with  the  engineers  already  in  charge,  who  were 
flMsant  and  well  educated  tnen,  comprised  the  party  of  which  I  waa 
bMomeone. 

Am  they  betook  themselves  to  Ihelr  work  again,  1  borrowed  a  gun 
•nd,  fbUowed  by  the  ivhole  troop  of  dogs,  spent  the  afternoon  among 
ihe«qulrrris»  pigeons,  and  prairie  chickens. 


ORITIQUC  ON  TRAVELS,  AND  TaAVEL£RS. 

BT  WABBSN  ISHIK. 


[ooimvuiD,] 

We  have  spoken  of  various  classes  of  travelers,  the  philoeqphlo  and 
the  superficial,  the  utilitarian  and  the  latitudinanan,  the  husky  and  the 
piquant,  the  phlegmatic  and  the  sentimental,  the  censorious  aiul  the 
amiable,  the  ^sredulous  and  the  ineredulous,  the  sublimated  and  the 
plodding,  the  egotistic,  the  frivolous,  and  the  common  sense.  We 
have  also  notified  the  reader,  not  only  that  the  list  may  be  greatly 
eaetended,  but  that  each  class  is  subject  to  division  and  subdivision, 
witil  each  individttal  traveler  finds  himself  standing  alone,  distinctly 
marked  by  his  own  peculiarities — peculiarities  c^  observation,  of 
tbctaght,  ^and  of  expression. 

Take  fbt  instance,  the  mperfioM  traveler-^how  many  aorts  there  are 
we  will  not  here  undertake  to  say,  but  we  will  mention  three  or 
ter  by  w»y  of  illustration*  There  is  one  wing  of  them^  quite  roepeo* 
tsUeiirniiiiiberSytilio  have  not  the  capadty  to  penetrate  beDeaHh  the 


90  OKmQTTB  ON  TBAYBIA  AKB  TRATELEBa 

Burfiice  of  things,  lliere  is  anol^r,  who,  whateYor  their  capadty,  are 
restricted  by  drcumstanoes,  to  a  mere  saperfioial  glance.  Of  the  lat- 
ter, two  varieties  here  present  themselyes — ^thoee  who  are  drawn  within 
the  charmed  drde  of  the  great,  and  kept  there,  and  to  whom  all  beyond 
it  is  terra  ineognikt;  and  those  who  are  hurried  along,  with  rail-road 
•peed,  from  dty  to  dty,  and  from  country  to  country,  scarcely  al%^ 
ing  any  where  long  enough  to  recover  from  the  bewilderment  occa- 
sioned by  the  new  and  strange  objects  around  them. 

And  yet,  these  flying  tourists,  and  these  caged  up  tourists,  have 
sometimes  undertaken  to  enlighten  us  in  regard  to  the  condition  of  the 
countries  they  have  flown  through,  or  in  which  they  have  been  caged. 
And  even  those  to  whom  providence  has  denied  Uie  capacity  to  look 
beneath  the  surfitce  of  things,  have  sometimes  thought  themselves 
qpedally  raised  up  by  that  same  providence  to  write  books  for  the  edifi- 
cation of  the  people. 

But,  with  all  their  diversities,  this  large  class  of  observers  all  har^ 
monize  in  their  impressions,  and  indeed  it  is  the  only  daas  among  the 
almost  innumerable  general  classes  of  travelers,  where  perfect  har- 
mony is  to  be  found.    Uufortunately,  however,  it  is  harmony  in  error. 

In  the  first  place,  the  glitter  of  wealth,  and  the  wonderful  achieve- 
ments of  capital  and  art,  which  meet  the  eye  on,  every  hand,  set  their 
heads  to  swimming  round  and  round,  and  they  exclaim,  wonderM ! 
wonderful !  while  they  &11  to  confessing  their  mistakes  about  the  great- 
ness of  their  own  country,  reduced  as  it  now  is  to  a  very  humble  posi- 
tion at  the  feet  of  the  great  country  they  are  in.  But  the^.  judge  by 
what  they  see,  and  can  scarcely  be  blamed  for  not  taking  into  account 
what  they  do  not  see.  The  &ct  that  the  wonderful  display  they  behold, 
is  made  at  the  cost  of  the  unpaid  labor  of  the  million,  lies  beyond  the 
range  of  their  observation.  And  that  other  fact  too,  that  the  true 
greatness  of /i  people  consists  not  in  material  things,  but  in  the  imma- 
terial mindj  seems  to  lie  beyond  the  ken  of  their  vision. 

Still  more  profoundly  are  they  struck  with  awe  in  view  of  the  mili- 
tary display  they  behold,  the  formidabl^egions,  their  magic  evolu- 
tions, their'  imposing  uniform,  and  their  glittering  steel ;  the  impreg- 
nable fortresses,  bristling  with  canon ;  arsenals  crowded  witb  imple- 
ments of  death,  and  especially  the  huge  stacks  of  canon  balls.  These 
things  impress  them  with  an  awful  sense  of  tiie  power  of  the  govern- 
ment. They  are  patent  to  their  observation,  but  not  so  that  other 
magazine,  which  tmderlies  it  fdl,  and  which  only  needs  the  applicataon 
of  a  match,  to  produce  an  explosion  which  would  bury  the  whole,  gov* 
emment  and  all,  in  one  common  ruin.  The  appalling  &ct,  that  tiuee^ 
fourths  of  the  population  of  nearly  every  country  of  the  (Ad  world,  have 


ORinQUEL  tl 


at  stake,  and  nothing  to  protect,  and  that,  galled  by  6ppTea- 
Bon,  they  are  ready  to  enlist  under  the  banner  of  any  master  who  will 
promise  them  relief,  has  utterly  escaped  their  observation.  They  do 
not  take  into  aooount  the  mighty  element  of  power  which  accrues  to  a 
government  to  which  the  hearts  of  the  masses  are  knit,  by  reason  of  the 
blessings  it  bestows,  and  in  support  of  whi<di  they  stand,  shoulder  to 
dioulder,  because  every  man  of  them  feels  deeply  interested  in  its  pre^ 
ervation.  Equally  do  they  overlook  the  element  of  weakness,  and  of 
selfdestruction,  which  the  alienation  of  the  masses  infuses  into  a  gov- 
ernment, an  jlement  wlnoh  neither  armies,  nor  fortresses,  nor  all  the 
paraph^nalia  of  war,  can  stand  agunst.  If  they  would  let  their 
thoughts  out  upon  these  things,  if  they  would  extend  the  scope  of  their 
visicm  to  the  starved  millions  who  have  been  beggared  by  laws  which 
they  had  no  hand  in  framing,  and  which  they  have  more  interest  in. 
destroying  than  in  sustaining,  how  different  would  be  their  condusiona 
in  respect  to  the  power  of  the  government!  And  if  they  would  allow 
the  great  fiiot  to  steal  in  among  their  thoughts,  that,  in  our  own  country^ 
where  every  arm  is  a  fortress,  all  classes  of  the  population  are  ipade 
happy  under  a  government  and  laws  which  they  themselves  have  made^ 
for  their  own  protection,  how  would  the  comparative  greatness  and 
glory  of  our  country  via^  and  expand  upon  their  vision ! 

But  these  things  they  do  not,  and  cannot  see,  for  they  lie  far  beyond 
the  scope  of  their  observation,  and  of  course  enter  not  as  an  element 
il^to  their  calculations. 

But  t^ere  is  still  another  thing  which  strikes  this  class  of  beholdera 
with  admiration,  and  exalts  their  ideas  of  the  governments  of  the  old 
world,  to  ^the  disparagement  of  their  own.  The  civil  order  and  res- 
pect  ibr  law  they  everywhere  behold,  the  clock-work  machinery  of  gov- 
ernment, and  prompt  execution  of  the  law  upon  offenders,  charm  tbern^ 
and  if  they  do  not  absolutely  fall  in  love  with  monarchy,  they  at  least 
leel  their  respect  for  the  institutions  of  their  own  country  giving  way* 
But  to  correct  their  mistake,  they  have  only  to  consider,  that  there  ia 
not  half  as  much  order  and  respect  for  law,  in  any  of  these  old  coun- 
tries, as  there  is  in  the  state's  prison,  where  '^  order  reigns,^'  in  its  high* 
est  perfection,  every  convict  being  a  pattern  of  subordination,  order 
and  decorum,  and  from  the  same  motives  too,  which  govern  the  doom- 
ed masses  in  these  countries,  and  make  them  the  quiet  and  orderly 
people  these  sagacious  observers  see  them  to  be. 

If  they  would  have  their  eyes  opened  upon  this  suhject,  let  them 
take  their  stand  at  the  comer  of  a  street,  and  look  either  way,  and  they 
will  presently  see  a  man,  in  a  half  military  dress,  moving  upon  Him 
side-waUc,  as  to  a  sort  of  dead  march,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  badneards 


it  OBITIQIJS. 

md  ^xrwmrda,  from  oomer  to  oomer,  l^voi:^  JJie  liTo^ong  6aj^ 
flait  «ot  m  pMser-by,  mim,  woman  or  child,  eseapes  his  obseorfBtioii. 
And  80  thej  will  find  it  at  the  next  corner,  and  the  next^  the  whole 
dty  oyer;  wad  if  they  will  extend  their  obserratktte,  tliey  will  find 
the  same  rigid  guardiaoahip  exeroiBed  even  over  the  nM>st  retired  iuoh 
iBgueighborhooda,  and  that  thus  both  dty  and  ooimtry  aro  oonateidy 
kept  under  guard.  And  it  might  help  ikm  cono^toooa  etill  iiiithefv 
«n  thifl  auhfeot,  to  be  l^into  the  aeoret  that  they  thema^ves  have  heea 
followed  and  watohed,  from  the  time  they  aet  foot  in  the  country,  \jf 
A  set  of  men  employed  by  the  goyemment,  and  that  often  thoae  Unrnj 
vo«ild  lenst  aogpect,  are  but  spies  in  digguise. 

If  their  eyes  could  be  unsealed  to  these  (Mugs,  if  they  could  extend  tfen 
etx>pe  of  their  vision  to  the  great  &ct,  that  it  costs  the  people  of  theee 
ancie&ft  countries  more,  in  taxes,  to  furnish  a  guard  to  watch  them- 
aelves,  than  is  exacted  from  our  own  people  to  carry  on  the  whole 
jnacUnery  of  goyemment,  possibly  their  yiews  mig^  be  modified 
somewhat.  Possibly  the  spectacle  of  a  great  people  exhibiting  a  flpirH 
of  subordination  and  respect  for  law,  as  a  voluntary  homage  to  a  goT- 
enmient  wbidi  blesses  them,  and  which  is  the  work  of  their  own  handa, 
might  wake  up  theil-  ideas  to  the  different  aspect  it  presents,  fh)m  dutl 
of  a  people  who  bow  to  the  supremacy  cf  \h»  law  with  the  ciwva 
9fmt  of  slaves,  and  whose  quiet  obedience  is  the  quiet  of  the 
tomb. 

The  broils  which  occasionally  occur  in  some  of  our  dties,  rise  wHh 
wonderfully  disturbing  power  upon  the  vision  of  these  men.  But  they 
seem  to  be  blind  to  the  fact,  that  these  are  mere  harmless  ebullitiona 
compared  to  the  destructive  outbreaks  whidi  are  frequently  transpir- 
ing under  the  governments  of  the  old  worM ;  and  doubly  blind  to  ^ 
fiu^t,  that  nearly  all  our  broils,  and  the  greater  portion  of  our  erteOi 
oiiginate  with  the  class  of  our  population,  who  received  thdr  moral 
training  under  the  very  governments,  whose  civil  order  t^y  so  much 
admire. 

We  might  pursue  this  subject  to  a  much  greater  length,  but  let  dds 
suffice  to  illustrate  our  meaning.  We  will  only  add,  that  this  is  the 
class  of  travelers  we  left  out  of  tiie  account,  when  we  said,  ^  entertain 
no  fears  of  monotony  or  surfeit.^ 

We  will  further  add,  that  we  do  not  claim  in&Uibility  for  ourselvea. 
Jlfone  of  us  can  see  the  beam  whidi  is  in  our  own  eye,  hidf  as  well  as  we 
ean  see  the  mote  which  is  in  our  brother^s.  And  in  the  application 
the  reader  may  make  of  the  above  remarlcs,  br  of  any  other  test,  we 
ahall  not  elium  any  special  indulgence. 


VISffT  TO  THK  WOBLD  OF  SPIBITa 


VISIT    TO    THE  WORLD  OF   SPIRITS,  AC, 


BT  TBB  BAm, 


Among  the  most  memorable  of  our  adventures,  "while  sojourning 
in  London,  was  a  descent  into  the  spirit  world.  We  do  not  mean 
that  we  actually  desoended  into  the  Tartarian  regions,  or  found  our 
way  among  disembodied  spirits,  but  only  that  we  went,  on  an  explor- 
ing tour,  through  that  dark,  oBamal,  subtttrranenn  realm,  lay)wn  as  the 
spirit  ysults  of  London. 

Hiese  vaults  form  an  underground  city,. laid  out  in  regular  order, 
die  streets,  ofr  alleys,  crossing  each  other  at  right  angles,  and  die  spir- 
its which  dwell  there,  are  wine,  brandy,  rum,  gin,  ^c,  ^c.  In  thjis 
mderground  city  are  twenty-five  miles  of  railway,  running  into  every 
part  of  it,  whose  office  work  it  is  to  aid  the  iogresa  and  egresa  of  tb^ 
iqpiirits  which  come  there  to  sojourn. 

We  liad  heard  our  landlord  (the  same  spoken  of  in  our  last  SMm- 
ber)  speak  of  having  pipes  of  brandy  in  these  vaults,  whteh  had  Imma 
tfiere  many  years,  ripening ;  and  we  were  told  that  all  the  diousanda 
irfliquor  sellers  of  any  note  in  London,  and  all  the  wealthy  ,and  tbe.greati 
have  their  hhds,  pipes  and  tierces  thQre,and  that  the  supply  is  replen- 
ished from  year  to  year,  so  that  when  they  make  a  draft  upon  it  for 
use,  they  may  select  that  whidi  possesses  the  ripe  qualities  of  age. 
There  are  spirits  in  these  vaults,  said  to  be  more  than  a  hundred  years 
olA 

Hie  length  of  the  vaults  is  not  far  from  a  mile,  and  the  roof,  or 
pavement  overhead,  is  supported  by  massive  stone  pillars.  From  tha 
roof,  or  ceiling,  hang?  suspended  the  gathered  mould  of  ages,  (as  we 
have  seen  moss  suspended  from  the  limbs  of  certain  trees,  hanging' 
two,  three^  and  four  feet  down,)  which  gives  the  place  a  most  dional 
and  gloomy  appearance,  as  you  make  your  way,  by  the  aid  of  a  lamp, 
along  the  avexuies,  lined  on  either  side  by  the  caAs  in  which  the  spirits 
are  embodied, 

A  certain  precautioh  is  enjoined  upon  all  who  enter  this  dreadful 
place,  as  necessary  to  be  observed  if  they  would  ever  return.  Those 
who  enter  it  with  an  empty  stomach,  very  soon  become  intoxicated 
by  breatiiing  the  air  of  the  vaults,  pervaded,  as  it  is,  by  the  ethereal- 
ized  spirits  which  have  escaped  from  the  casks ;  and  if  a  perscm  in  this 
condition  were  alone,  there  would  be  no  possibility  of  his  getting  oiit| 
far  the  oune  eauae  whidi  prostrated  him,  wtmld  keep  Iiim  preetrate. 
Htnoe  all  who  enttr  nuiot  aee  to  it  that  they  are  fortified  afsinst  did- 


94  AOGOUKT  OF  THE  PLAGE,  fta 

*■■  ■'■■'■  '■'  [■■■it^ 

ger  by  foil  stomachs.  We  cannot  Bpeak  from  Bxperience  of  the  effect 
of  neglecting  this  precaution,  but  we  state  the  &ct  on  the  most  unques- 
tionable authority. 

These  vaults,  we  believe,  are  the  property  of  private  persons,  to 
whom  rent  is  paid  for  their  occupancy.  No  spirits  pass  the  ordeal 
Witt  their  fevorite  devotees,  which  have  not  heeu  many  years  ripening 
in  this  dismal  place,  and,  to  find  &vor  with  the  wealthy  and  the  great, 
they  must  be  very  aged.     Of  course,  prices  range  accordingly. 

What  t^e  mysterious  influence  is,  which  developes  the  latent  quali- 
ties of  spirits,  in  these  vaults,  beyond  the  mellowing  process  of  an 
ordinary  warehouse,  is  more  than  we  can  tell.  But  there  aeems  to  be 
in  the  minds  of  the  people,  a  sort  of  veneration  for  the  witchery  of 
ihe  place. 

And  now  that  we  are  upon  the  ground,  let  us  survey  the  remaining 
iironders  around  us.  Here  are  the  famous  dock^  of  the  commercial 
metropolis  of  the  world,  excavated,  as  all  the  docks  of  England  are, 
from  the  solid  earth,  forming  basins,  walled  up  all  around,  back  a  little 
way  from  the  river,  into  which  vessels  slide  through  a  canal,  upon  the 
nsing  of  the  tide,  and  locked  in  which  they  float  in  safety,  while  the 
<»nal  through  which  they  entered,  and  a  great  portion  of  the  river  bed, 
Ar^  left  high  and'  dry  by  the  ebbing  of  the  tide. 

And  here,  close  by  the  spirit  vaults,  are  the  great  London  docks, 
which  contain  ninety  acres,  and  cost  £4,000,000,  or  $20^000,000.  Upon 
these  docks  are  located  the  mammoth  spirit  warehouses,  tea  and  tobacco 
warehouses,  and  close  by  is  the  Queen's  Pipe.  See  that  huge  column 
of  smoke  curling  its  wfty  upward,*  fold  upon  fold,  and  darkening  the 
heavens.  It  is  the  smoke  of  the  Queen's  pipe.  But  is  the  Queen  such 
a  smoker  ?  Certainly  she  is.  All  contraband  tobacco  (tobacco  for- 
feited to  the  government  by  attempts  to  smuggle)  is  burned,  and  that 
tall  chimney  you  see,  which  carries  off  the  smoke,  is  very  appropri- 
ately called  "  the  Queen's  Pipe."  This  has  been  the  custom  from 
time  immemorial.  During  the  late  war,  however,  thi>  tim^honored 
custom  was  intermitted,  and  the  contraband  tobacco  was  apprbpriated 

to  the  use  of  the  Crimean  soldiers. 

« 

And  there  is  St.  Catherine's  dock,  covering  twenty-five  acres,  the 
cost  of  which  was  £1,700,000,  or  $8,500,000.  To  dear  the  ground 
for  it,  1250  houses  were  pulled  down  or  removed,  and  11,000  inhabit 
tants  ousted  from  their  homes. 

The  West  India  docks  contain  296  acres,  and  co«t  £1,380,000,  or 
$6)900,000.    The  East  India  docks  contain  82  acres.    Iliree  miles  ,in 


AHTESIAK  WELL.  M 


extait,  below  the  above,  ia  about  to  be  excavated  to  furnish  additional 
dock  &cilitie8,  at  an  expense  of  £1,500,000,  or  $7,500,000. 

In  these  magnifioiQnt  docks  is  to  be  seen  the  most  extensive  and  vari- 
egated collection  of  shipping  anywhere  to  be  found  upon  the  earth^s 
surface.  The  forests  of  masts,  extending  as  &r  as  the  eye  can  reach, 
and  from  which  stream  the  flags  of  all  nations,  (Rations  spread  out  all 
over  the  globe,)  present  a  spectacle  of  grandeur  and  sublimity  not 
often  witnessed  by  mortal  man. 

We  wiU'only  add,  that  of  the  enormous  quantity  of  spirits, 
ripened  in  the  vaults  above  described,  the  following  amount  is,  accord- 
ing to  official  statistics,  consumed  in  London  alone,  viz :  60,000  pipes 
of  wine,  and  2,000,000  gallons,  of  other  spirits,  besides  three  million 
barrels,  of  beer. 

Then  there  are  the  gastronomies,  consisting  of  190,000  bullocks, 
1,000,000  of  sheep  and  lambs,  270,000  swine,  120,000  tons  of  fish, 
2,400,000  barrels  of  flour,  11,000  tons  of  butter,  13,000  tons  of 
cheese,  and  ten  million  gallons  of  milk,  annually. 


REMARKABLE  ARTESIAN  WELL. 

At  Kessingen  in  Germany,  or  rather  in  German  Austria,  we  turned 
aside  to  visit  a  somewhat  remarkable  Artesian  Well.  At  a  depth  of 
twelve  hundred  and  fifty  feet^  water  impregnated  with  tiiree  per  cent 
of  salt,  was  reached.  Underneath  this  lay  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
of  Carbonic  Acid,  which  threw  the  water  seventy-five  feet  above  the 
sur&ce,  making  one  of  the  most  magnificent  fountains  in  the  world. 
At  this  depth,  seventeen  hundred  feet  from  the  surface,  a  solid  rock  of 
salt  was  reached,  supposed  to  be  a  thousand  feet  in  thickness,  and  into 
this  they  bored  two  or  three  hundred  feet,  making  about  two  thousand 
feet  from  the  sur£M)e. 

The  question  now  was,  how  they  could  aviul  themselves  of  the  rich 
treasure  they  had  discovered,  at  such  a  depth.  This  question  was  soon 
solved  by  the  ingenuity  of  the  inspector.  Three  tubes,  five,  three, 
and  two  inches  in  diameter  respectively,  were  inserted,  one  within 
another,  the  outer  and  largest  extending  only  twelve  hundred  and 
fifty  feet,  and  conducting  off  the  three  per  cent  water,  while  the  otheiL 
two,  one  within  the  other,  extended  down  to  the  rock.  The  three  per  ' 
o^t  water  falling  among  thorn  bushes,  is  evaporated  to  nine  per  cent, 
which,  in  that  stiM^  is  forced  down  through  the  second  tube  to  the  rock, 
where  it  becomes  impregnated  with  salt  to  the  amount  of  twenty-seven 
per  cent,  when  it  is  forced  to  the  sur&oe  again,  and  far  above  it,  thro' 
the  inner  tube,  by  the  same  pump  whi<di  forced  it  down;  and  evapora- 
tion finidies  the  process. 


96  OUB  OWH  A7PAIB& 


OUR  OWN.  AFFAIRS. 

*  What  will  you  do  when  the  trarels  yoa  have  commenoed,  hare  ran  out — 
19  a  question  often  pot  ?  We  hare  no  great  anxiety  about  that  ^*  Suflt^ 
cient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  We  never  doubted  that  Providence 
would  put  material  enough  in  ouf  way,  and  we  have  the  pleasure  of  announc* 
ing  already  a  valuable  accession  to  our  cotps  of  contributors.  A  proHM^ 
sional  gentleman,  who  has  traveled  extensively  in  the  South  Western  StaAoi^ 
and  in  Mexico,  and  sojourned  in  the  latter  country  for  a  length  of  time,  has 
kindly  consented  to  put  his  journal,  (which  is  quite  voluminous,)  at  our  ser- 
vice, and  it  will  doubtless  add  much  interest  to  our  columns.  There  are 
other  gifted  tourists,  who  have  also  consented  to  fUmish  us  the  results  of 
their  observations  abroad,  as  soon  as  we  can  find  room  for  them.  So  that 
no  fears  need  be  entertained  on  that  subject 

There  seems  to  have  beon  a  great  mistakei,  on  the  part  of  many,  inreq>ect 
to  the  available  resources  of  thm  Magazine.  Not  a  few,  we  find,  had  taken 
up  tlie  idea»  that  Dr.  Duffield's  travels  were  published  in  book  fonn,  long 
ago,  and  that  of  course  he  could  furnish  nothing  new  or  important  for  this 
work.  And  did  not  Mr.  Isham  publish  a  book,  and  publish  in  other  forms — 
and  what  more  can  he  have  to  say — is  a  question  too  which  many  have 
asked. 

Be  it  known  then,  that  Dr.  Duffield's  travels  were  never  published  in 
book  form,  and  that  his  entire  journal  from  the  time  he  left  this  country, 
until  he  returned,  is  designed  to  be  published  in  this  Magazine.  And  be  it 
further  known,  that,  although  Mr.  Isham  has  published  a  book,  and  pub- 
lished not  a  little  besides,  in  other  fonns,  still  the  gpeatar  portion  of  hia 
notes  abroad,  have  never  been  published  [in  any' form,  and  tha  portion  too 
which  relates  to  the  most  interesting  countries  on  the  earth.  These  things 
will  all  appear  in  the  progress  of  the  work,  but,  as  they  have  doubtless  ope- 
rated to  prevent  some  from  subscribing,  we  have  thought  it  proper  to  advert 
to  the  matter  here. 

Again,  s^e  are  opposed  to  the  idea  of  publishing  travels  in  numbers, 
(liable  as  they  would  be  to  be  soiled,  and  perhaps  many  of  them  lost,)  alleg- 
ing, that  they  are  desirous  of  having  the  work  complete,  and  therefore  prefer 
waiting  until  the  whole  is  finished,  when  they  can  get  the  boynd  vohune  in  a 
fit  condition  for  a  library. 

To  such  we  would  say,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  is  very  doubtful  whether 
these  travels  can  ever  be  had  at  all,  except  in  this  form,  by  subscription. 
And,  if  published,  in  book  form,  what  can  ne^  be  obtained  in  one  volume, 
will  make  three  ordinary  sized  volumes,  to  be  procured  only  at  about  three 
times  the  price.  With  a  little  care,  the  numbers  may  all  be  preserved  in  a 
fit  state  for  binding.  We  shall  endeavor  so  to  arrange  the  contents,  that 
the  eontributions  of  each  autiior  may  be  bound  in  a  volume  by  itseli 

To  our  friends  we  would  say,  tiiat  we  have  made  a  good  stwt,  buitfaait 
lh(B  work  eannot  posaibiy  be  anstamed  at  the  pnaent  low  psioe  ^riAatkm 
hiSji  MceMioa  to  our  litt  of  Bubscnbevs. 


\ 


aga^ine  of  Crabel, 


VOL.  I.]  MARCH,  1857.  [NO.  ft. 


NOTES  OF   FOREIGN    TRAVEL 

■T.  UT.  OM.  OVffOLD,  O.  O. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Stratford  on  Avony  The  Tower  of  London^  (ha  ThumA,  Wegkniiuttr  AVbeyy  SL  J^amTi 

Chwch. 

I  noticed  that  within  the  chancel  railing,  west  of  the  altar,  and  not 
more  than  from  12  to  15  ft.  from  Shakspeare's  tomb,  is  that  from  John  a 
Coombe,  the  old  usurer,  whom  Shakespeare  so  satirized.  Columns 
stand  before  an  entablature  on  the  wall,  supporting  an  arch,  beneath 
which,  is  laid  upon  a  table  the  efiigy,  in  marble,  of  the.  old  extortioner. 
Alas !  how  Mammon  honors  her  votaries !  Even  in  the  house  dedica- 
ted to  the  worship  of  God,  wealth  procures  an  honorable  memorial  for 
those  that  deserve  it  not !  The  ashes  of  those  two  men  will  not  disturb 
each  other,  reposing,  as  they  do,  in  '^  consecrated  "  grandeur !  But 
who  can  tell  what  may  have  passed  through  their  minds,  or  betwe^i 
their  spirits,  since  they  left  their  bodies,  and  may  now  be  transpiring 
in  the  unseen  world.  Oh,  of  what  little  worth  is  a  niche  in  a  gorgeous 
cathedral,  for  a  monumental  statue  or  tomb^  on  which  the  curious,  or 
idle,  may  gaze  in  sadness  or  sorrow !  Loi-d  give  me  a  place  **  in  the  hol- 
low of  thy  hand  T'  Let  my  spirit  be  with  Christ,  and  1  care  not  for  monu- 
ments on  earth,  of  marble  or  of  brass!  The  pledge  of  my  Redeemer 
for  a  resurrection  to  life  is  enough.  Tis  peace  and  hapiness  to  leave 
the  corrupt  and  mouldering  clay  to  thy  disposal  and  preservation ! 
'  It  atTected  me  very  unpleasantly  to  see  tombs,  bearing  marble 
effigies  of  deceased  persons,  in  one  of  the  pews  in  the  corner  of  the 
church — ^knights  of  the  Clopton  family,  now  extinct,  the  estate  of  the 
noble  fitmily  to  which  it  belonged  having  passed  into  other  hands.  The 
interior  of  the  pew  is  partially  concealed  by  a  screen,  yet  occupied 
by  persons  attending  on  the  worship.  It  is  a  superstition  I  dislike, 
which  converts  the  place  of  worship  for  the  living  into  a  cemetery  jfor 
the  dead. 


M  NOTES  OF  FOBBION  TaAVEL. 

•  I  ■  .  ■  ■  » 

0  ___ 

SepU  ,6<&.  Expected  to  have  visdted  Warwick  Castle  this  daj,  but 
learning,  on  mj  arriyal  in  the  village,  of  there  being  races  in  the  vicinity, 
and  that  the  fiunilj  had  reused  entrance  for  three  days,  I  resumed  my 
place  in  the  <iligeDce.  It  is  said  to  be  the  most  interesting  castle,  and 
richest  in  paintings,  furniture,  &c.,  of  any  in  England.  It  is  in  the 
occupancy  of  the  late  Lord  Brook,  now  Earl  of  Warwick.  From 
Warwick  I  passed  on  to  Kemlworth.  On  my  way  there,  I  saw  th^ 
park  full  of  deer,  which  continue  to  be  kept  in  the  very  same  grounds 
whence  Shakspeare^,  when  a  young  man,  stole  one  of  the  ancestors  of 
the  present  stock.  Spent  sufficient  time  to  survey  the  ruins  of  the 
castle  where  Queen  Elizabeth  had  been  so  sumptuously  entertained  by 
the  Earl  of  Leicester,  whom  she  poflsioiiately  loved,  but  dfierward 
turned  agunst  with  malignant  hatred,  when  she  foimd  that  he  had  been 
secretly  married  to  another.  What  solemn  and  woful  comments  has 
IAbib  made  upon  all  the  grandeur  and  cGtrruption  that  once  luxuriated 
Ihere.     Resuming  my  journey,  I  arrived  at  London  about  9  P.  M. 

Stpi,  lik.  To-day  I  have  visited  the  Tower  of  Lond(m  and  the 
tunnel,  faUing  in  with  a  few  fellow  countryman,  Mr.  Hoppin  fhm 
Providences  R.  I.*  Warders  or  guides  dressed  in  livery,  somewhat 
Mdflndish  and  antiquated,  ar«  in  attendance  to  wait  upon  visiftora  ta 
die  tcywer.  One  is  deputed  to  serve  eadi  company  who  may  asamUa 
^rlng  the  interval  of  every  half  hour.  They  take  you  akmg  thaftr 
Tegular  and  oft'trodden  track,  and  tell  you,  in  language  committed  to 
ttemory  andmedianioally  related,  die  story  connected  witii 
parts  and  objects  in  the  great  pile  of  buildings,  whose  eariey 
i&d  uses,  were  those  of  the  palace,  prison,  and  citadel  of  the  MetropoGa. 
it  is  more  replete  with  historic  associations  than  any  other  plaoe  in 
finglaiid.  Some  antiquarians  ascribe  its  origin  to  Julius  Ottaar. 
'Generally  it  is  supposed  to  be  the  work  of  William  the  Conqueror* 
Biahops  and  Kings  have  both  Contributed  to  its  enlacgementand  im^^rovc^ 
meat,  and  both,  in  their  turn,  have  suffered  imprisonment  within  its 
walls.  The  government  of  this  fortress  is  in  the  hands  of  a  constable, 
an  offieer  of  high  rank  and  influence,  a  lieutenant,  deputy  lieuteaant, 
fort-major,  physicnan,  apothecary,  gentleman-porter,.  gentlemaa-jaikiB, 
feior  quarter  gmmera,  and  forty  warders,  the  latter  of  whom  are  the 
glades  of  t^e  place.  Hiey  date  baok  the  origin  of  their  presence  and 
aetvioe,  as  well  as  their  name,  to  the  days  of  Henry  the  VUl,  wfaoae 
yeomen  of  the  guard  tiiey  were,  when  and  wldle,  for  privacy  and  the 
fennation  of  an  adn^inistration  afW  the  death  of  Ms  fether,  he  retired 
and  occupied  the  Tower.  They  wear  the  same  sort  of  livery  or  unlibroa 
that  was  assigned  to  them  in  the  days  of  Edward  the  VI.  Perstfuicif 
subordinate  rank  in  the  army,  whose  conduct  has  rendered  theok  daaerf^ 


VISIT  TO  THE  TOWEB.  99 

jng  oTihe  distinctioD,  generally  receive  the  appointment.    The  ^  Tigei^s 
gate,"  so  called  frcrni  the  adjoining  court,  formerly  occupied  by  ^  ihb 
Boyal  Menagerie,^  irhose  contents  have  lately  been  transferred  to  "  die 
Zoological  gardens,"  forms  the  place  of  entrance.     You  pass  through 
streets,  snd  ranges  of  buildings,  a  display  of  ancient  heavy  cannon, 
many  of  them  oommemmorative  of  England's  "  glorious  victories," 
and  the  sites  of  '^  the  Grand  Storehouse,"  destroyed  by  iire  in  1841,  to 
tiie  White  Tower  as  ijt  is  called,  where  you  enter  "  the  Horse  Armory." 
It  is  a  room  150  feet  in  length  and  85  in  width,  in  which  a  line  of 
equestrian  figures  occupies  the  centre.     Over  the  head  of  each  is  placed 
a  banner  designating  the  rank  and  date  of  the  personage  represented. 
Hie  sides  of  the  room,  are  decorated  with  figures  in  armour,and  military 
trophies ;  and  the  ceiling,  with  arms  and  accoutrements  arranged  in 
lanciful  figures,  acoording'to  the  taste  of  those  who  designed  them.    The 
guides  point  out  to  you  a  magnificent  suit  of  equestrian  armor,  worn 
hj  Henry  the  VIII.  and  said    to  have  been  presented  to  him  by 
Maximilian,  Emperor  of  Germany,  on  the  occasion  of  the  marrii^  of 
tliat  wicked  despot  with  Catharine  of  Arragon.     According  to  the 
taste  of  the  times,  and  evidental  of  the  ancient  spirit  of  the  Roinan 
Gatliolic  Church,  the  folds  of  this  armour  are  embellished  with  engra- 
vings of  legends  of  stunts,  mottoes,  arms,  dec.,  illustrative  of  ancient 
manners  and  customs.     Near  it  are  two  male  figures  of  the  youths, 
Henry  and  Charles,  sons  of  Qiarles  I,  both  clad  in  the  armorial  suitflt 
worn  by  these  lads.  The  suits  of  armor  worn  by -the  figures  generally, 
are  not  those  of  the  persons  whose  names  they  bear,  and  serve  but  to 
mdicate  the  style  of  the  armour  used  in  different  periods.     Edward  I,  of 
the  13th  century,  is  represented  in  tihe  armour  of  his  age,  dnring  whose 
ragn,  tiie  glorions  Scottish  hero  William  Wallace,  after  confinement 
nt  the  Tower  and  a  pretended  trial,  was  so  brutally  tied  to  horses, 
aaid  dragged  through  Cheapside  to  Smithfield,  and  barbarously  executed, 
leaving  an  eternal  stain  of  infamy  upon  this  monarch's  glory.    The 
gay  and  gallant  Edward  the  lY,  appears  in  an  el^ant  suit  with  tilting 
lance.      Among  the  armorial  figures,  a  splendid  tournament  suit, 
originally  gilt,  and  believed  to  have  actually  belonged  to  Dndley,  Earl 
of  Leicester,  the  celebrated  court  favorite  of  Elizabeth,  is  also  pointed 
out  to  you.     Its  weight  is  said  to  be  87  lbs.     In  examiniug  the  variovs 
apoeinoens  of  hand  firearms,  in  use  from  the  first  invention  of  gunnery, 
cochlbited  in  the  different  cabinets,  I  noticed  oiie  that  might  have  su^es- 
ted  die  idea,  l^ough  of  rude  construction,  of  Colt's  revolving  pistol. 
Leaving  this  room  you  enter  the  White  Tower,  by  a  passage  formed 
through  the  wall,  some  14  feet  thick,  and  find  yourself  in  the  room 
aiiBad  ^  Queen  Elisabeth's  Armory.''    It  li^particnlariy  remarkable  as 


=7  0  r.  (^  I 
i  \' *i  •,  i 


100  NOTES  OF  FOBBIGN  TRAVRL. 

the  prison  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  Adjoining,  is  a  dark  closet  of 
dungeon-like  form,  which  is  shown  as  his  sleeping  room.  I  noticed 
the  memorials  of  three  unfortunate  inhabitauts,  rudely  engraven  in  the 
stone  and  still  legible,  viz : 

"  HE  that  InDVRETII  TO  THE  ENDE  SHALL  BE  SAVID. 

M.  10.  K  RUD80N  KENT  A  No  1553  " 

BE  IWITHFUL  VNTO  DETH  VND  I  WIL  GIVE  THE  A 
CROW  NE  OF  LIFE.  T.  FANE  1654  " 

T  CULPEPER  OF  DARFORD.  " 

At  the  far  end  of  this  room  is  an  equestrian  figure  of  Queen  Elizabeth^ 
in  a  costume,  said  to  resemble  that  in  which  she  went  to  St.  Pauls 
Cathedral  to  return  thanks  for  the  deliverance  of  her  kingdom  from 
Spanish  invasion.  'Various  sorts  of  weapons  and  spears  are  arranged 
in  this  room*  Among  them  I  noticed  particularly  what  they  called 
^^the  Holy-water  sprinkle^'^  a  ball  of  wood,  bristling  with  iron  spikes,  and 
fixed  at  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  used  by  the  infantry  from  the  period 
of  the  conquest  to  tne  days  of  Henry  Vlll.  On  the  floor  near  the  centre 
of  the  room  is  the  beheading  block,  and  near  it  the  beheading  axe  or 
clever.  Instruments  of  torture,  as  thumb-screws,  iron  collars,  the  cravai 
or  "  scav^enger^s  daughter,''  intended  to  bind  the  head,  hands,  feet,  limba, 
and  body,  into  the  smallest  compass,  are  duly  pointed  out  to  you. 
My  heart  sickened  as  1  surveyed  the  extensive  display  of  these  horrid 
instruments  of  death  and  torture.  They  perpetuate,  in  grand  display, 
the  memory,  of  the  ferocious  cruelty  of  the  age,  and  of  the  despots 
clothed  with  absolute  authority.  The  cruelty  of  man  towards  roan  is 
even  worse  than  that  of  the  beasts.  His  reason,  and  so  called  ^^  inves- 
tigation,'' have  made  him  excel  the  savage  in  methods  of  torture.  I 
turned  away  with  heavy  heart  from  these  scenes,  and  sighed  as  I  passed 
the  place  of  the  grand  stbre-house,  and  the  church  of  St  Peter  ad 
vincuUi^'*  where  repose  the  ashes  of  persecutor  and  persecuted,  the 
^victims  of  ambition  and  tyranny,  Bishop  Fisher,  Qneen  Ann  Boleyn, 
Catharine  Howard,  the  Earl  of  Essex,  Lady  Jane  Grey  and  her  hus- 
band— the  glory  and  the  shame  of  past  ages. 

From  the  tower  I  rode  to  the  tunnel,  it  has  been  well  exhibited  la 
the  different  jplates,  and  other  representations  of  it  I  have  seen,  which 
have  become  so  common  as  to  render  description  unnecessary.  I  was 
surprised  at  the  semblance  of  solitude  it  wears.  It  is  not  a  thoroughfarOi 
but  a  place'  of  resort,  for  the  curious,  or  the  idle  who  visit  it,  and  for 
whose  entertainment,  various  contrivances  are  employed  by  persons 
having  shops  and  tables  for  vending  and  displaying  their  wares. 

The  remainder  of  this  day  was  spent  in  a  visit^to  the  magnificent 
•athedral  of  St.  Paul's,  which  looms  up  in  its  solemn  grandeur  in  tb» 


ST.  PAUL'S.  lot 


Very  midst  of  the  densest  part,  and  centre  of  all  the  great  bu^iueas 
operations,  of  this  immense  city. 

St  Paul's  Church  covers  two  acres  of  ground,  and  is  the  largest  prot- 
estant  place  of  worship  in  London.  Its  dimensions  are  500  feet  in 
length,  and  in  breadth  of  transept  250,  and  in  height  from  the  floor 
to  the  top  of  the  cross  352 ;  the  floor  being  between  seven  and  eight 
feet  higher  than  the  street.  Its  dome  rises  with  great  majesty,  and 
from  every  quarter  is  conspicuous.  The  ordinary  entrance  is  by  the 
North  door,  nearest  Pater  Noster  row.  It  was  about  the  time  of 
chanting  the  afternoon  service  in  the  choir,  that  I  entered  it.  It  is  per- 
formed every  morning  and  afternoon.  During  its  continuance  I 
delayed  my  walk  through  its  immense  area.  It  is  a  great  mausoleum. 
Some  fifty  monuments  range  themselves  in  solemn  grandeur  aroimd 
its  walls,  some  of  them  of  great  taste  and  grandeur,  erected  at  public 
expense. 

The  choir  is  separated  from  the  nave  of  the  church  by  a  beautify 
screen,  and  the  entrance  to  it  is  through  gates  of  wrought  iron.  TTie 
organ  is  supported  by  eight  Corinthian  pillars,  of  blue  veined  marble, 
and  beneath  it  is  the  way  of  entrance.  Above  is  a  plain  marble  slab 
bearing  the  epitaph,  in  Latin,  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  who  lived  over 
ninety  years,  and  who  is  honored  as  the  builder  of  this  great  temple. 
The  epitaph  closes  witu  the  words — si  monumentum  requiris^  circum- 
spice;  "  if  thou  seekest  his  monument  look  around,"  which  seemed  to 
me,  when  I  first  read  it  to  have  suggested  the  idea  and  part  of  the 
motto  of  the  arms  of  the  State  of  Michigan,  to  the  author  of  the  latter. 

The  organ  contains  thirty-two  stops,  and  more  than  two  thousand 
pipes,  but  from  the  reverberations  peculiar  to  the  building,  it  sounds 
as  if  it  had  greater  power.  The  deans'  stall  and  canopy,  and  others 
for  the  canons,  vicars,  and  choristers,  are  adorned  with  rich  carving. 
That  of  the  Bishop  confronts  the  Mayor's,  and  is  adorned  with  the 
ancient  Episcopal  emblem  of  a  pelican  feeding  her  young  from  her  own 
breast,  while  the  latter's  bears  the  city  sword  and  mace.  The  reader's 
desk  is  between  them,  and  is  composed  entirely  of  brass  richly  gilt. 
Hie  Bible  rests  upon  an  Eagle  with  expanded  wings.  The  "  Episco- 
pal throne,"  surrounded  by  a  mitre,  is  placed  at  the  end  of  one  of  the 
range  of  stalls,  and  opposite  is  the  pulpit.  The  members  of  the  Cathe- 
dral, who  here  conduct  divine  service,  are  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul,  four 
resident  canons,  twenty-six  prebendaries,  twelve  minor  canons,  and  six 
vicars  choral.  Beneath  the  dome  of  this  building,  which  has  a  light 
and  elegant  appearance,  and  in  the  octagonal  area,  formed  by  eight  mas* 
Ave  piers  over  forty  feet  wide,  and  the  others  twenty-ei^ht  feet — ^the 
charity  children  in  the  parochial  schools  of  London,  I  learned,  are  annu. 
ally  gathered,  inj  the  month  of  June,  to  hear  a  discourse  addressed  to 


^a  NOTES  OF  FORJDGK  TRAVEL. 

them.  Some  ten  thousand,  it  i»  said,  are  sometixaes  afisenibled} 
the  sight  must  be  deeply  affecting.  How  strangely  the  graiMi  md.  the 
good  are  here  combined  !  But  the  religion  is  that  of  the  stake,  and 
must  be  made,  in  some  way,  to  correspond  to  tbe  grandeur  of  the  rul 
ing  powers. 

The  monument  of  Howard,  the  philantiiropist,  arrests  the  eye  m 
you  enter  the  south  aisle  from  the  oentral  area^  It  is  a  well  executed 
statue  representing  that  devoted  friend  of  humanity,  in  a  Boman  cos* 
tume,  trampling  on  some  fetters,  with  a  key  in  his  right  hand,  and  is 
his  left  a  scroll,  on  whidi  are  inscribed  the  words,  ^'  Plan  for  the 
improvement  of  Prisons  and  Hospitals."  Bishop  Heber  is  represen- 
ted kneeling  with  one  hand  od  his  breast,  and  the  other  resting  on  the 
Bible ;  Sir  lialph  Aborcromby  as  idling  from  his  careering  horse  mto 
the  arms  of  a  highlauder ;  and  Sir  Andrew  Hay  on  the  arms  of  Valour ; 
all  magnificent  sculptures.  My  attention  was  early  arrested  by  the 
statue  of  Samuel  Johnson,  who  is  represented  with  a  scroll  in  his  hand, 
and  in  the  attitude  of  deep  thought.  On  the  pedestal  is  the  inscription 
of  Di.  Parr,  in  Latin,  beneath  a  monograph,  and  the  first  and  last 
letters  of  the  Greek  alphabet,  setting  forth  .the  character  and  virtue  of 
the  celebrated  English  grammarian,  critic  and  poet.     The  statues  of 

Lord  G)rnwallis  and  Admiral stand  vis  a  vis,  but  a  few  steps 

further  on.  It  would  have  required  more  time  than  1  had  at  command, 
to  give  full  and  minute  attontion  to  all  that  presents  itseli*  in  this  enor- 
mous temple. 

The  crypt  is  a  vast  vault,  divided,  like  the  body  of  the  cathedral  into 
three  parts,  by  immense  pillars,  and  in  it  lie  the  remains  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  Christopher  Wren,  and  other  distiuguished  dead.  What  a 
solemn  place  fur  reflection !  O,  of  what  little  value,|is  all  this  lying  in 
state  of  the  corrupt  body  and  mouldering  ashes,  to  the  departed  spirits ! 
How  the  pomp  and  pride  of  ancient  tyrants  are  perpetuated  in  tha 
world,  and  the  exhibitions  of  their  vanity  and  self  idolatry  made  in  their 
sepulchral  tombs  and  palaces,  still  doated  on  by  poor,  weak  mortals  I 
'*A11  the  kings  of  the  nations,  even  all  of  them,"  says  the  prophet,  "  lie 
in  glory,  every  one  in  his  own  house !"  Alas !  wealth,  and  mortai 
ap{4ause,  make  multitudes  of  inferior  station  ambitious  of  like  grandeur 
in  death !  But  it  is  all  a  vain  and  useless  show.  *^  Like  sheep  they  are 
laid  in  the  grave,  death  shall  feed  on  them  :  and  the  upright  shall  have 
dominion  over  them  in  the  morning,  and  their  beauty  shall  consume  in 
the  grave  from  their  dwellings."  I  would  infinitely  rather  be  able  to 
add  in  faith  with  the  Psalmist,  '^  But  God  will  redeem  my  soul  (life) 
from  the  power  of  the  grave ;  for  he  shall  receive  me,"  than  have  a^y 
assurance  that  could  be  given  of  costly  sepulchral  monuments^  ao^ 


« 

T    -^ ' 1 -~ ■ ■ ■ '■ — ■  -| . 

flattering  tokensi  and  diaplajs  of  homage,  and  adminUion,  from  mortalsM 
ISie  fiuih  of  a  Uessed  resurrection^  is  of  iniinitoly  greater  value  tbaii< 
ag^lendid  tombs  and  sepulchres  and  maiiaoleuma  for  the  dead^  Bi^lf 
wiien  the  state  or  religloua  authority  undertakeB  to  make  and  regulat0 
vdigion  and  its  influence  in  society,  it  is  wonderful  how  sure  it  is,  ii^ 
aonae  way  or  other,  to  attempt  to  place  the  reigning  "  god  "  on  earth, 
aiaong  '^  the  gods'';  on  high,  or  as  near  as  might  be  to  the  gloriousi 
Sovereign  who  has  all  authority  in  Heaven  and  on  earth.  What  a  mar- 
yeUous  i^evolution  will  the  resurrection  work  in  this  respect !  "  Thiey 
that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brigh^tness  of  the  firmament,  and  they 
that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever." 

S0pL  8th,  Visited  this  day  our  acomplidied  and  exoeUent  plenipc^' 
teBtiary  Abbot  Lawrence,  Esq,  who  has  deservedly  won  theb  esteem^ 
as  weU  by  his  talents,  as  by  his  attention  to  his  countrymen.  Tlie 
baiaxice  of  the  day  was  devoted  to  Westminister  Abbey.  This  build-^ 
ifilg,  now  one  of  England's  great  mausoleums,  in  which  are  interred  bee 
honored  dead,  had  its  origin  in  remote  antiquity.  Many  marvellowi 
legends  are  related  by  monkish  writers  concerning  its  foondatioD,  too 
ridioulous  to  be  repeated.  Even  the  general  belief  of  andent  historv- 
flBS,  '^  that  it  was  erected  on  the  ruins  of  a  prayer  temple,''  has  been, 
diseredited,  since  the  careful  examinations  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren, 
the  architect  of  the  Cathedral  of  St  Paul.  It  is  within  the  present 
century,  that  the  neglect  of  this  building,  consequent  upon  the  expulaioa 
of  popery  by  the  reformation,  has  given  place  to  proper  attention  aod 
cave,,  to  preserve  it  from  utter  ruin  and  decay.  It  is  now  oue  of  tlb»r 
most  interesting  places  in  all  Lond<m  for  a  musing,  sentimental,  or> 
thoughtful  stranger  to  visit.  The  present  building  dalles  from  the  days, 
of  Edward  the  Confessor,  and  its  restoration  by  Christopher  Wren, 
under  direction  of  parliament,  who  skillfully  executed  the  repairs  aaA 
decorations  proposed*  It  is  bnilt  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  its  nave,  traa* 
aept  and  choir,  being  arranged  so  as  to  present  a  symmetrical  figure. 
Its  length  from  east  to  west  is  375  feet,  and  breadth  from  north  txx 
south  200.  Its  height,  from  the  pavement  to  the  roofof  the  lantern 
140  feet.  It  contains  nine  chapels,  of  which  those  of  Henry  the  Vllth. 
and  Edward  the  Confessor  are  the  principal.  In  these  ehapels  are> 
arranged  the  monuments  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  illustrious  dea4f  • 
Hie  guides  or  castodes  loci  meet  the  visitors  at  the  general  place  of> 
entrance  in  what  is  called  the  ^'  Poet's  Comer,"  or  south  transept.  Hare 
ase  monuments  to  Garrick,  Addison,  Goldsmith,  Gay,  Bow%  Thomp- 
son, Spencer,  Soutbey,  Chaucer,  Cowley,  Dryden,  6ec.  In  the  different 
chaples,  sleep  the  remains  of  many  of  England's  king's,  queens,  and) 
nobles.    Along  the  aisles  are  arranged  the  monuments  erected  tp  thi^ 


104  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAYBLl 

■ '        ■       '      ^■^— ^»^i^^^^^^^— ■■        ■«■»  I       ■■     ■  I  l^^^^^m^    ■■■Ml»^ll  ■■■■■■.  ■  I  ■■     ^— ^W^  ■       ■ M^i^— ^.  II  ■        I  ■     I      * 

memory  of  illustrious  dead.  Among  the  latter,  my  attention  was 
arrested  principally  by  the  monuments  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts,  Sir  Isaac 
Newton*,  and  William  Wilberforce.  The  monument  to  Dr.  Watts 
is  small,  and  of  white  marble,  divided  by  a  fascia,  over  which  is 
exhibited  his  bust  suported  by  genii.  Undemeeath«is  a  fine  figure  of 
the  Dr.  in  the  attitude  of  contemplation,  while  an  angel  opens  to  him 
the  wonbers  of  creation.  In  one  hand  he  holds  a  pen,  and  with  the 
other  points  to  a  celestical  globe.  That  of  Newton  represents  the  great 
philosopher  in  a  recumbent  posture,  leaning  his  arm  on  four  folios, 
entitled  Divinity,  Chronology,  Optics,  and  Phil.  Prin.  Math.,  and 
pointing  to  a  scroll  supported  by  cherubs.  A  large  globe  projecting 
from  a  pyramid  behind,  appears  above  him,  on  which  latter,  is  deline- 
ated the  course  of  the  comet  of  1620  ^^,  while,  on]^^'  former,  is 
seated  the  allegorical  figure  of  Astronomy  with  her  book  closed. 
Curious  bas  reliefs  represent  the  various  labors  of  the  philosopher. 
Among  them,  none  is  bolder,  or  more  striking,  than  the  device  of  his 
weighing  the  sun  by  the  steelyard,  illustrative  of  the  application  of  the 
great  principle  of  gravitation  discovered  by  him.  ,The  monument  of 
Willberforce  represents  his  fignre  seated  on  a  pedestal,  ingeniously 
.  sculptured,  and  admirably  expressive,  of  his^e,  and  of  the  inward 
pleasure  that  seemed  to  dwell  in  his  own  serene  and  benevolent 
mind.  The  taste  of  this  monument  pleased  me  most  of  all.  It 
represents  the  living,  not  the  dead.  The  latter  seems  to  be  com- 
monly, preferred  by  artists,  from  the  days  of  the  Egyptians  down,  who 
often  present  the  dead  In  the  costumes  of  the  grave,  laid  out,  as  it  were, 
on  the  slab  that  covers  the  sarcophagus  as  though  they  were  not  yet 
encoilincd.     To  me,  sU  such  representations  are  exceedingly  offensive. 

September  9. — This  day  has  been  also  passed  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  It  has  been  recovered  from  the  ruin  to  which  it  once  seemed 
\  to  have  been  abandoned ;  and  being  an  honored  place  of  sepulture  for 
kings,  and  nobles,  and  gentry,  is  now  one  of  the  cherished  sacred 
places  of  London.  Of  the  nine  chapels  at  the  Eastern  end,  is  that  of 
Henry  the  VII,  the  most  celebrated,  and  deemed  one  of  the  finest 
specimens  of  florid  gothic  in  the  world.  The  roof  is  of  wrought  stone, 
finished  yi  the  most  delicate  style.  The  choir  of  the  Abbey  is  very 
beautiful,  but  the  effect  of  the  entire  interior  of  the  building  is  greatly 
diminished,  by  the.number  of  monuments  with  which  it  is  crowded- 
many  of  tbfem  in  very  bad  taste.     I  record  additional  memoranda. 

In  tk€{gN>et's  comer,  which  opens  into  view  upon  entrance,  repose  the 

flsh^  of  England's  poetic  geniuses  who  have  contributed  so  much  to 

4Selebrate  her  fame  and  greatness.    The  monuments  of  Ben  Johnson, 

.  and  the  bust  of  Milton,  arrested  quickly  my  attention.     But  the  record 


WESTMINSTEB  ABBEY.  100 


made  of  bis  deed  who  placed  the  latter  whbre  it  stands,  is  a  specimen 
of  disgusting  littleness  and  vanity  that  offends  and  interferes  with  the 
contemplation  of  this  tribute  to  the  memory  of  one  of  England's  great- 
est poets.  Memorials  of  Addison,  Goldsmith,  Gay,  Rowe,  Shakes- 
peare, Southey,  Gray,  Spencer,  Chaucer,  Dryden,  and  Thompson, 
engc^d  my  solemn  thoughts.  As  I  stood  and  walked  on  the  stone 
slabs  in  front  of  Shakspeare's  monument,  sacred  to  the  memory,  and 
covering  the  ashes  of  Garrick,  Dr.  Johnson,  Campbell,  Henderson, 
and  Gary,  lying  side  by  side,  I  felt  deeply  impressed  with  the  empti- 
ness and  vanity  of  mortal  admiration.  Of  what  avail,  in  the  eternal 
world,  to  the  disembodied  spirit,  can  be  the  nonor  rendered  to  the  ashes 
of  the  dead !  Many  of  the  epitaphs  that  meet  the  eye  are  anything 
but  such  as  evangelical  Christianity  would  dictate.  That  of  Gay,  writ- 
ten by  himself,  tells  indeed  the  story  of  his  life ;  but  a  sober  certainty 
in  the  unseen  world  has  succeeded  trifling  and  levity  here. 

It  is  inscribed  on  the  front  of  the  monument  erected  to  his  memorj 
by  his  patrons  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Queensbury,  in  his  own 
words:  ^    ' 

LIfb  is  a  Jett,  and  all  things  show  It: 
I  thought  80  once,  but  now  I  know  It. 

The  poets  comer  excited  rather  painful  than  pleasurable  thoughts ; 
and  I  turned  with  deeper  interest  and  calm  delight  to  trace  the  memo- 
rials of  men,  who  devoted  the  energies  of  their'lives  to  enlighten  and 
benefit  mankind,  rather  than  to  amuse,  excite  and  entrance :  who  have 
honored  human  nature,  by  prefering  to  address  the  judgment  and 
understanding  rather  than  the  passions.  I  gave  a  passing  view  to  the 
stately  grandeur,  in  which,  iCings,  Queens,  Dukes,  Duchesses,  Earls, 
Lords,  Ladies,  Bishops,  Deans,  and  other  lofly  dignitaries  of  State  and 
Chujch,  repose  in  the  various  chapels  of  St.  Benedict,  St.  Edmund,  St. 
Nicholas,  Henry  VII,  St.  Paul,  St.  Edward,  St.  Erasmus,  &c.,  &c. 
Tliere  were  "  the  royal  vault  of  George  II,"  and  tomb  of  Henry  VII 
and  his  Queen,  surrounded  by  those  of  Villers  and  Sheffield,  Dukes 
of  Buckingham,  and  others,  and  an  urn  containing  the  heart  of  Esme 
Stuart,  son  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  all  enclosed  with  gates  of 
brass ;  and  in  the  chapel  of  St.  Edward,  the  shrine  of  the  confessor 
dating  A.  D.  1065,  and  the  tombs  of  Henry  III  1272,  Queen  Eleanor 
1290,  Henry  V  1422,  Queen  PhiUippa  1369,  Edward  III  1377,  Rich- 
ard  II  and  Queen  1399,  beside  other  of  later  date,  some  thirteen  in  all. 

In  this  chapel  is  kept  the  coronation  chair  made  for  Mary,  wife  of 
William  III,  and  that  more  ancient,  one  made  to  enclose  the  stone, which 
superstitious  tradition  reports  to  be  Jacob's  pillar,  brought  with  rega- 
lia from  Holland  by  Edward  I,  and  offered  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Edward 
In  1297,  afler  he  had  triumphed  over  John  Baliol,  King  of  the  Scots  in 


KM  NOTBS  OF  FOEEXaK  TK^ITEL. 


t^K 


several  battkles.  In  this  latter  daair  ali  the  sovereigns  of  "Rnglsad^ 
since  Edward  I,  have  been  crowned.  It  is  a  coarse,  cambrous,  homely 
looking  a&ir,  with  a  great  rough  stone  sustained  beneath  its  sealiiy  coia> 
moBlj  believed  to  be  that  on  which  the  kings  of  Scotland  sat  at  their 
coronation.  But  on  the  grand  ocoasions  when  it  is  used,  it  is  takeft 
from  the  custody  of  these  dead  kings,  and  covered  with  gold  tissue^  ia 
placed  before  the  altar,  behind 'which  it  now  stands.  How  the  super- 
stations  of  past  ages  are  cherished  and  sanctified  by  a  state  religion !. 
Above  these  chairs  and  along  the  frieze  of  this  chapePs  screen,  are 
some  legendarv  sculptures  respecting  the  royal  confe8sor-M>ne  of 
which  tells,  how  the  saintly  monarch  ^'  was  frightened  into  the  abolitioi^ 
of  the  Dane-gelt  by  his  seeing  the  devil  dance  upon  the  money  casks,'' 
another  of  the  Saviour's  appcairance  to  him — another,  his  vision  of  iho 
seven  sleepers, — and  others  ^^  how  he  hid  St  John  the  Evangelist  uk 
the  guise  of  a  pilgrim — how  the  blind  were  cured  by  their  eyes  b^n^ 
washed  in  his  dirty  water — ^and  the  story  of  the  ring  being  given  as  an 
alms  to  St.  John,  and  delivered  to  the  king  with  a  message  foreteUing 
his  death.  The  tomb  containing  the  body  of  this  old  sainted  king,  !• 
composed  of  five  wrought  slabs  of  gray  marble.  It  is  said  that  the 
tomb  was  opened  in  1T74,  by  permission  of  the  Dean,  for  the  sodety 
of  antiquaries,  when  the  body  was  found  perfect,  having  on  two  robes^ 
one  of  gold  and  silver  tissue,  and  the  other  of  crimson  velvet — a  scep- 
tre in  each  hand  measuring  near  five  feet ;  a  cro\«7i  on  his  head,  and 
many  jewels,  and  that  "  he  measured  six  feet  two  inches,"  verifying  the 
truth  of  the  rumor  for  his  ancient  nick  name  of  "  Long  Shanks." 

What  impositions  have  been  and  are  practice^  on  the  credulity  of 
mankind ! 

A  lofby  and  magnificent  monument  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  her  8i»* 
ter,  Queen  Mary,  erected  in  the  chapel  of  Henry  VII  by  James  I,  beara 
Bfi  inscription  recording  her  character  and  high  descent,  and  the  great 
acts  of  her  memorable  reign.  She  is  pronounced  to  have  been  *'  truly 
religious !"  In  the  chapel  of  St.  Paul  is  a  colossal  monument  to  James 
Watt,  who  improved  the  steam  engine,  and  is  honored  as  '^  among  the 
most  illustrious  followers  of  science  and  the  real  benefactors-  of  the 
world."  The  vanities,  and  sometimes  monstrous  and  offensive  exhibit 
tions  of  taste,  amid  these  memorials  of  the  dead,  provoked  singuhur 
reflections.  From  a  monument  in  the  chapel  of  St*  John,  to  the  mem- 
ory of  Joseph  Gascoigne  Nightingale  and  his  lady,  I  turned  away  with 
utter  disgust.  The  lady  is  represented  expiring  in  her  husbands  anaa9| 
while,  slily  creeping  from  the  tomb  beneath,Death,  the  king  of  terrors^  a 
hideous  spectacle,  presents  his  grim  visage,  and  points  his  unerring  dart^ 
to  the  dying  figure,  at  the  sight  of  which,  the  husband,  horror  strioheq« 
amazed,  and /nth  despair,  clasps  her  to  his  bosom,  to  defend  her  from 


the  &tal  stcoke.  It  was  some  oompensation  for  the  feelings  of  sbud^ 
dering  horror  at  such  a  sight,  to  rest  the  eye  upon  a  tablet  to  the  memn 
Orj  of  Sir  Humphrey  Davy,  the  distinguished  votary  of  sdenoe,  an4 
eminent  chemist.  It  is  on  the  back  of  the  monument  of  Gen.  Wolfe^ 
which  looks  into  the  chapel  of  St.  John  the  Baptist.  The  gallant  war« 
'  nor  is  represented  as  felling  into  the  arms  of  a  grenadier,  with  hia 
right  hand  over  his  mortal  wound,  while  the  grenadier  points  to  glor]|i 
in  the  form  of  an  angel  in  the  clouds,  holding  forth  a  wreath  ready  to 
crown  a  highland  sergeant  looking  on  sorrowfully,  and  two  lions 
watching  at  his  feet.  What  is  the  glory  of  mortals,  but  a  fiction,  at 
best !  It  makes  little  difference,  whether  it  is  done  in  marble,  or  on 
canvass,  or  in  letters.  Let  the  hand  of  the  living  Redeemer  put  the 
crown  of  glory  on  my  head  if  it  shall  ever  be  honored  with  it.  Short 
of  this  every  other  ambition  seems  worthless. 

Among  the  monuments  that  particularly  interested  me,  were  those 
of  William  Pitt,  Earl  of  Chatham,  and  Drs.  Isaac  Barrow,  Rojijert 
South,  Stephen  Hales,  and  William  Outram,  not  all  indeed  for  the 
taste  and  excellence  of  their  sculpture,  but  as  tributes  to  names  of  great 
worth. 

I  had  expected  to  see  the  tomb  of  that  excellent  young  prince, 
Edward  the  VI,  but  found  that  it  had1[>een  destroyed.  His  remains 
lie  at  the  head  of  the  chantry  containing  the  magnificent  ^mb  of  Henry 
Vfl,  his  grandfather.  His  sister  and  successor,  Mary,  erected  a  stately 
monument  to  his  memory.  It  had  some  curious  sculpture,  representi 
ing  the  passion  and  resurrection  of  the  Saviour,  with  two  angels  on  the 
top  kneeling :  but. the  puritans,  when  in  power,  destroyed  it  as  a  reL 
ique  of  Roman  superstition. 

I  lingered  long  in  these  hallowed  precincts,  and  departed  not  till 
after  the  evening  service.  It  is  a  grand  place  to  revive  and  deepen 
historical  and  biographical  reminiscences. 

I  have  visited  but  little  in  the  great  metropolis  of  the  world,  expectin|^ 
to  spend  more  time  on  my  return.  It  has  afforded  me,  notwithstanding 
a  gTGol  deal  of  rainy,  foggy  and  uncomfortable  weather,  much  satis&Or 
tion  to  ride  and  walk  through  its  great  thoroughfares,  and  try  tOt 
form  some  idea  of  its  vast  business  aud  extent. 

London  is  an  immense  city,  extending  eleven  miles  east  and  weat^ 
and  eight  miles  north  and  south,  of  which  Charing  Cross  and  the 
Royal  Exchange  form  the  two  centres,  of  an  ellipse.  The  river 
Thames  runs  between  London  and  Westminster,  and  is  at  Waterloo 
bridge,  some  400  yards  wide.  The  tide  flows  15  miles  above  London^ 
and  the  port  below  "  the  London  bridge,"  for  three  or  four  miles,  i» 
filled  with  sliipping.    Those  engaged  in  the  .coal  trade,  have  to  anchoK 


lOS  NOTES  OP  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


below,  and  await  their  time  in  course,  to  pass  up  aud  discharge  their 
oargoes.  The  city  is  said  to  number  1 1  000  streets,  squares,  courts, 
&C.,  aud  to  contain  a  population  of  2,000,000,  making  it  the  largest 
dty  in  the  world.  Its  principal  public  buildings  are  St.  Jame's  and 
Buckingham  palaces,  the  new  houses  of  Parliament,  Westminister  Hall 
and  Abbey,  the  National  Gallery,  St.  Paul's  Church,  the  General  Po9 
Office  and  Royal  Exchange. 


CHAPTEHr  VI. 
Dieppe^  Bowe%  Porta  and  its  celebrUies. 

September  10.  This  evening  I  find  myself  at  Dieppe,  having  tarried 
for  the  night  on  my  way  to  Paris. 

We  Teft  London  at  eight  A.  M.,  and  passed,  by  railroad,  thence 
through  Surrey  and  Sussex,  to  New  Haven,  a  short  distance  north  of 
Brighton,  on  the  shore  of  the  British  Channel.  As  we  were  whirled 
along,  we  had  a  passing  glance  at  the  Crystal  Palace,  now  in  course  of 
permanent  erec^on  near  Sydenham,  once  the  residence  of  the  fiimoua 
poet  Campbell,  and  soon  found  ourselves  off  the  coast,  in  a  small 
steamer,  leaving  the  chalk  cliffs  of  England  behind  us,  on  our  way  to 
France.  The  steamer,  like  most  on  the  channel,  was  small,  and  uncom- 
fortable, little  better  than  our  "  tugs  "  that  ply  upon  the  river  Detroit 
and  the  Lake  and  River  St.  Clair.  There  was  not  room  enough  for 
half  her  passengers,  in  its  miserable  apology  for  a  cabin.  The  ladies, 
with  but  few  exceptions,  soon  began  to  ^eek.  a  place  to  sit  down,  or  on 
which  to  recline  their  heads,  for  lying  down  was  out  of  the  question, 
as  the  rolling  motion  of  the  vessel  and  the  fresh  breeze  from  the  ocean, 
that  swelled  the  waves,  induced  sea  sickness.  The  gentlemen  had  to 
do  the  best  they  could,  to  find  places  to  sit  or  stand  within  the  gun- 
wales of  the  little  tnb,  and  to  put  through  some  five  hours  with  as 
ipuch  patience  as  discomfort.  I  have  not  yet  seen,  in  all  the  coast  yd 
channel  steamers  around  England,  dsc.,  anything  to  compare  with  our 
Ohio  and  Mississippi  river  boats,  even  of  the  inferior  grades,  fi)r  com* 
fort. 

The  first  thing  that  arrested  my  attention,  upon  entering  the  port  at 
Dieppe,  was  a  large  crucifix,  and  an  image  of  the  virgin,  giving  due 
notice  of  our  approach  to  a  land  of  idolatry — to  me  exceedingly  repul- 
five.  We  found  comfortable  apartments  and  accommodations  in  the 
Hotel  des  Bains,  and  for  the  first  time,  I  began  to  realize  more  fiiUy 
than  I  had  yet  done,  that  I  was  inja  strange  land.     Dieppe  lies  at  the 


DIEPPE  TO  PABIS  lOt 


mouth  of  the  river  Argusoa,  thirty-three  miles  north  of  Rouen,  and 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  from  Paris.  Its  principal  edifioes  are  aa 
old  castle  on  a  cliff  west  of  the  town,  two  churches,  a  town  hall,  thei^ 
tre,  library^  baths,  and  a  commercial  and  naval  school.  The  port  is 
enclosed  by  two  jetties,  and  quays  sufficient  to  accommodate  a  large 
number  of  vessels  not  over  six  hundred  tons  burthen ; — ^but,  at  low 
water,  the  channel  is  almost  bare.  A  branch  of  this  stream  bears  the 
name  of  Bethune. 

September  11.  Left  Dieppe  at  twelve  M.,  having  had  time  enough 
to  visit  the  principal  church  and  get  the  first  view  of  a  temple  of  idoL 
atry  in  this  anti-christian  land.  I  noticed  nothing  worthy  of  remem- 
brance, and  the  thoughts  I  bore  with  me  from  it  were  those  of  sadness 
and  sorrow,  in  view  of  the  deep  debasement  to  which  the  human  mind 
can  be  brought,  by  violating  the  command  of  God,  which  forbids  the 
making  of  graven  images,  and,  in  direct  disobedience  to  its  spirit  and 
letter,  by  bowing  down  before  them.  The  worship  of  the  represenie^ 
iion  difTein  radically  from  that  of  the  reality. 

The  business  of  having  our  baggage  transported,  weighed  and  chedc* 
ed,  which  here  occupies  no  little  time,  having  been  attended  to  by  tha 
'  hotel  officials,  we  soon  were  in  plight  on  our  way  to  Rouen,  where  we 
arrived  at  2.30  P.  M.  The  railroad  passes  to  the  valley  of  the  river 
Se/e,  and  pursues  its  general  direction  to  Longueville  and  thence  to 
St.  Victor,  where  it  crosses  over  table  land,  and  finds  its  way  along 
the  valley  of  a  small  stream,  that  empties  into  the  river  Seyne  near 
Bouen.  We  made  no  delay  in  this  ancient  town.  It  was  but  a  bird's 
eye  view  I  had  of  it.  The  river  is  spanned  by  a  stone  and  an  iron 
bridge.  The  town  has  a  venerable  aspect,  and  lies  on  a  gentle  acctiv* 
ity  sloping  to  the  south.  The  streets,  as  I  caught  a  view  of  them, 
seemed  narrow,  dark  and  dirty :  its  houses  are  built  of  wood,  some 
fiu^d  with  slate,  and  so  high  and  crowded  as  to  exclude  a  free  circula- 
tion of  the  air. 

The  cathedral  in  this  town,  I  learned,  was  rendered  remarkable  and 
attcactive  for  visitants,  as  containing  marble  tablets,  marking  the  plac6F 
where  was  deposited  the  heart  of  Richard  Geeur  de  Lion,  and  the.bodies 
of  his  brother  Henry,  and  o.  his  uncle  GeofTry  Plantagenet.  The  lion's 
heart  has  been  in  the  keeping  of  the  priests,  and  has  become  a  source 
of  profit.  Leaving  Ronen,  the  road  crosses  the  Seine,  and  follows  its 
general  direction.  The  river,  however,  is  very  serpentine,  and  in  some 
places  makes  long  detours,  when  the  road  takes  the  shortest  and  most 
practicable  route.  I  was  quite  surprised,  and  reminded  of  the  woody 
re§^ns  of  my  own  country,  in  seeing  numerous  forests  along  the  skirts 
and  near  which  the  road  passed.     The  cultivation,  in  the  valley  and 


!!••  NOTES  Of  FOMTOK  TRAVEL. 

bottoms  was  far  from  what  I  expeeted  to  see.  But  very  few  houses 
were  to  be  seen,  as  in  the  U.  8.,  scattered  over  llie  fiuse  of  the  country, 
tiM)  habitations  of  ^e  peasants,  being  generally  clustered  in  little  insig- 
nifioant  villages,  and  of  ratlier  low  and  mean  construction.  We  cros- 
sed the  Seine  five  times,  as  we  ascended  its  course,  before  readiing 
Paris.  Vineyards  of  moderate  dimenmons  began  to  show  themselves, 
aj^earing  to  the  eye  in  the  distance,  like  com  fields.  No  cattle  were 
to  be  seen  grazing  in  the  fields  in  flocks,  as  with  us, — and  no  fbnoes 
separating  farms  and  fields.  Whatever  animals  wer^  allowed  to  graze, 
were  attended  with  some  one  to  herd  diem.  The  Lombardy  poplar 
tree  seemed  to  be  generally  employed  in  some  districts,  to  designate 
plots  of  ground,  being  planted  around  five  acre,  and  ten  acre  lots,  and 
its  annual  pruning,  1  learn,  furnishes  feggots  for  market.  At  some  of 
the  stations  we  were  supplied  with  fine  grapes,  just  beginning  to  ripen, 
and  principidly  the  white  sweet  water,  which  seemed  to  be  extensively 
cultivated.  The  chief  towns  of  note,  thjough  which  the  road  passed 
were  Bonnieres,  Mantes,  and  Poiquy,  from  which  latter  place  the  road 
nms  across  the  the  Foret  de  8t.  Germain.  We  reached  Paris  at  half 
past  six  P.  M.,  and  from  the  depot,  with  little  difficulty,  or  trouble, 
under  the  guidance  of  those  whom  we  employed  to  attend  to  our 
wants,  we  directed  our  cocker  to  take  us  to  the  Hotel  des  Etrangeres. 
lliere  are  three  hotels  of  that  name  m  Paris,  one  In  Hue  Trencdia&t, 
near  the  Madeleine,  but  we  designated  that  of  Rue  Viviene,  near  tiie 
Bourse. 

8epUmh9r  13(A.  Intending  to  remain  but  eight  or  ten  days  in  Patw, 
my  companion  and  I,  determined  to  make  the  most  of  our  time,  and, 
at  an  early  hour  this  morning,  started  for  a  regular  day^s  work  m  vis- 
iting places  of  interest.  The  Place  du  Carousel,  Palais  de  Tuilleriea, 
the  Jardin  of  the  Tuilleries,  Place  de  la  Concorde,  the  Colonne  Yen- 
domme,  the  Champ  Elyesee,  the  Arc  Triomphe  de  PEtoile,  and  Pnotel 
des  Invalides,  comprised  the  extent  of  our  visits. 

The  open  spaces,  at  the  junction  of  streets,  or  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary size,  are  called  plaeen  by  the  French,  some  of  which  are  rendered 
remarkable  by  the  surrounding  buildings,  and  others  by  their  extent. 
Tbe  Place  du  Carousel  took  its  name  from  a  great  tournament  held 
there  by  Louis  XiV.,  in  1662 ;  but  has  only  attained  its  present  dimen- 
sions since  1849.  Hie  expense  oi  the  demolition  and  reconstruction, 
now  going  on  for  its  enlargement  and  embedishment,  are  to  be  boms 
by  the  State  and  City  conjointly.  It  is  situated  on  t^e  right  bank  of 
the  Seine,  between  the  Palais  des  TuUleries  and  the  Palais  de  Louvrdi 
and  will  form,  when  completed,  a  quadrangular  court,  coraiecthig  these 
two  fbrmer  royal  abodes.    The  object  of  chief  interest  in  tliis  place  is 


9fiB  fCnXUORllBB.  Ill 


tiie  ttiumpliftl  tvdi  Iwilt  1^  NftpoleoD  in  IB^,  in  imrtadon  of  Aat  of 
.tbo  Empeirar  Beptknhifl  Severm,  t^  Rome.  A  trhimp^  car,  drswn 
hf  four  broBie  homes,  Burtnounts  the  attic.  The  horses  have  been  ci»t 
Wter  the  modei  of  the  oelebrated  Corinthiini  horses,  brought  to  Pftnft 
!lbma  Venioe,  where  they  occupied  the  piazsa  of  Bt.  Msrk,  bnt  to  which 
tiiey  were  restored  in  1815  by  the  alliied  powers,  upon  tibe  establish- 
iiMBit  of  the  peace  of  Europe.  Aii  allegorical  figure  stands  on  the  car, 
aaid  on  ^eadh  side  of  the  horses ;  oyer  each  colunom  in  front  of  the  attic, 
Is  a  marble  figure  of  a  soldier  of  Napole<Mi*s  army,  in  the  uniform  of 
tfceir  teBp&fS^Te  corps.  Marble  bas-relief  sculptures,  OTcr  die  smaller 
an^cways,  repreaeat  the  memorable  events  of  the  campaign  of  1605^ 
tm  the  victory  of  Ansterlita,  the  capitulation  of  Ulm,  the  peace  of 
Pvesbnrg,  the  entering  into  Vienna,  the  interriew  of  the  Emperors, 
and  the  entering  into  Munich.  Hie  arch  is  said  to  have  cost  1,460,006 
£ranc8 ;  bat  its  proportions  are  by  no  means  appropriate  to  the  spa- 
dooi  court  in  wldch  it  stands. 

The  pakoe  of  the  IViiBeries  was  occupied  by  the  President  as  his 
-^sSdul  residence.  Virators  not  bemg  admitted  while  royal  or  nobb 
.pecBonages  were  residing  ia  their  abodes,  diere  was  no  opportunity 
fir  VB  to  view  die  interior  <^  tfate  great  pile  <^  bnildingB,  r^dered  of 
wo  mueh  instoricai  importance  by  the  events  wliich  have  transpfafed 
wMfain  its  wails,  and  ospecially  the  abdication  of  Louis  Phillippe. 
TkB  exterior  presents,  in  its  extaeme  length,  a  facade  of  three  hundred 
and  thirty^ix  yards,  its  breaddi  being  thirty-four.  Its  architecture  is 
4b  the  iU^an  style  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  garden  of  the  Tuilleries,  however,  was  free  to  our  ingress.  It 
«0iitidDS  about  sixty-seven  acres,  ext^iding  over  two  thonsa&d  feet  in 
kngth  and  nine  hundred  in  breadth.  Two  parallel  terraces  run  north 
and  south  irom  the  extreme  pavilions  of  the  palace,  and,  sloping  toward 
caoh  other  at  the  western  end,  meet<m  the  level  of  tiie  garden.  From 
ihe' southern  terrace,  which  is  wider  and  higher  than  1^  northern,  you 
lobtain  a  oommandir^  view  of  the  river  Seine  and  ^  palace.  Tlte 
Aoww^gaidens  are  hud  out  in  front  of  it,  separated  from  the  broad 
mt3k  between  them,  and  tihe  r^  oi  the  garden  by  fosses,  and  hiclosed 
urith  netted  aron  railiiigs.  The  groimds  are  laid  out  in  a  formal  style, 
and  aaaume,  from  the  size  of  the  parterres,  more  an  air  of  grandettr 
4hsn  of  picturesque  beauty.  Three  banns,  and  numerous  groups  of 
atatnoB,  looldiig  down  upon  you  as  you  pass,  ornament  this  part  of  iSie 
garden.  An  extenmve  grove  to  the  west,  divided  by  a  long  avenue,  is 
filed  with  large  full  grown  palm  to^es,  limes,  elms  and  chesnuts,  con- 
trasting  finely  with  the  beauties  of  the  gay  parterres.  Ilie  flowers  of 
autumn  were  in  fuU  bloom ;  mAcigolda,  aaton^  ohrysanthimums,  dab- 


118  NOTES  OF  FOBBION  TRAVEL 

lias,  yepbenas,  fuchsias,  balsams,  &o.,  ^.,  and  different  ever^blooniiiig 
rosea ;  none  of  which,  however  beautiful  and  cheering  as  they  appeared, 
excelled  the  like  varieties  I  have  seen  in  well  cultivated  gardens  in  the 
United  States ;  nor  was  my  attention  arrested  by  any  new  or  rare  spe- 
cies of  flowret  or  shrub.  Beyond  the  grove  is  a  large  octagonal  basiii 
of  water,  surrounded  by  smaller  parterres ;  and  north  <^  it,  and  of  the 
flowergarden,  is  a  fine  alley  of  large  and  ancient  orange  trees  in  boxes, 
very  formally  and  ai*tistically  trimmed,  which  are  placed  there  every 
summer,  and  in  fall  removed  to  a  spacious  green-house.  This  alley, 
and  the  adjoining  terrace,  are  the  most  fiishionable  promenades  for  the 
Parisians,  who,  1  was  told,  in  the  cool  evenings  of  summer,  stroll 
together  here  in  groups,  conversing  with  their  characteristic  gaiety,  or 
occupy  chairs,  furnished  at  two  sous  a-piece.  On  Sunday  afternoons, 
it  is  said,  the  crowds  that  throng  this  alley  become  almost  a  compad 
mass.  It  is  also  the  favorite  resort  of  children  and  old  persons.  The  . 
statuary,  which  appears  in  profusion  in  the  garden,  is  very  rich ;  much 
of  it  classical;  but  however  it  may  please  the  votaries  of  ^^the  fine 
arts,"  it  does  not  suit  either  my  sense  of  propriety,  or  taste.  The  gross 
nudities  standing  in  every  direction,  where  crowds  of  both  sexes  throng, 
is  much  too  near  an  approximation  to  the  state  of  things  in  andoit 
Greece  and  Rome,  for  my  ideas  of  a  virtuous  and  high-toned  moral 
state  of  public  sentiment.  Nor  can  1  at  all  conceive  of  any  benefit 
whatever  to  be  gained  by  the  exposure  of  a  nude  Bacchus,  and  Hercu- 
les, and  Apollo,  and  Antiuous,  a  Centaur  subdued  by  Cupid,  the  Muaesi 
Venus  pudica  or  impudica,  the  rape  of  Cybele  by  Saturn,  and  simi- 
lar achievements  by  celebrated  sculptors. 

At  the  northwest  end  of  the  garden  of  the  Tuilleries,  and  between  / 
it  and  the  Champs  Ely  sees,  is  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  or  sometimes 
called  Place  de  Louis  XV.  It  took  the  latter  name  from  the  circum- 
stance, that,  the  municipal  authorities,  intending  to  erect  a  statue  in 
honor  of  that  monarch,  he  appropriated  the  space  it  'occupies.  Tlie 
original  equestrian  statue  of  bronze  was  destroyed  by  the  order  of  the 
Legislative  Assembly,  and  melted  down  into  cannon  and  republican 
wo  sous  pieces  of  coin,  and  a  large  plater  figure  of  Liberty  substitu* 
ted  for  it.  In  front  ef  it  was  erected  the  guillotine,  on  which  were 
immolated  the  victims  offered  to  their  idol  by  the  mad  atheists  of 
that  day,  and  the  place  took  the  name  of  the  ^^  Place  de  la  Revolu- 
tion." The  king  was  represented  on  horse-back,  in  a  Roman  costume, 
and  on  the  four  angles  of  the  pedestal  stood  the  figures  of  Peace, 
Prudence,  Justice  and  Strength,  which  led  the  wits  to  perpetrate  the 
following  pasquinade : 

"0Ubel1est«tuel   O  le  bean  pledettal  1 
Let  rertoa  sodt  %  pled,  le  Tioe  est  a  cheraL** 


LAND  OF  THB  PYRAMIDS.  113 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS, 


BT  WABBBN  IBHAM. 


[ooanxDBO.] 


CHAPTER  XLL 

The  darker  shades  of  Mahommed  AWs  character  cofUinued,  taking  (he  ownership  of 
landf  conscriptwrij  one-eyed  soldiers^  Ibrihim  Pacha^  Abbas  Pacha, 


To  carry  out  his  various  projects  of  reform,  and  sustain  his  military 
^iterprises,  he  was  necessitated  to  resort  to  the  most  oppressive  tax- 
ation, and  when  the  landholders  were  no  longer  able  to  pay  the  taxes 
he  imposed,  he  stripped  them  of  their  possessions,  and  became  himself 
the  propriety  of  most  of  the  lands  in  the  country,  allowing  the  rigbtiul 
owners  simply  a  small  life  annuity. 

To  fill  up  the  ranks  of  the  army,  he  resorted  to  conscription,  tesir- 
ing  away  the  poor  peasants  at  his  pleasure  from  their  homes,  to  be 
sacrificed  by  thousands  in  his  campaigns.  In  one  instance,  he  waylaid 
the  great  pilgrim  caravan  on  its  way  to  Mecca  to  weep  over  the  torn!) 
of  the  prophet,  sacrilegiously  seized  a  thousand  men  belonging  to  it, 
and  pressed  them  into  his  army.  Scarcely  was  there  left  an  able 
bodied  man  in  the  country,  insomuch  that  the  tilling  of  the  soil  was 
lefl  to  little  boys  and  girls. 

Having  frequently  met  with  one-eyed  men,  and  those  who  had 
suffered  the  loss  of  fingers,  I  inquired  the  cause,  and  was  told,  that 
they  were  thus  maimed  when  diildren,  that  they  might  be  exempt 
from  lial^ity  to  be  pressed  into  the  army  by  Mahommed  All.  I  was 
•lao  informed  that  there  were  female  operators,  skilled  in  the  horrid 
work,  who  went  about  from  house  to  house,  to  perform  the  revolting 
office  for  a  price.  But  Mahommed  outwitted  them,  and  put  a  stop  to 
the  practice  by  levying  a  regiment  of  one-eyed  soldiers. 

Still,  as  I  have  said,  Egypt  is  the  better  for  his  having  lived.  I  was 
told  by  old  residents  of  Cairo,  that  formerly  the  ftUahs  used  to  oome 
into  town  half  naked,  or  covered  with  rags,  whereas  now  there  ia 


114  LAND  OF  THB  PYRAMIDS. 


scarcely  one  to  be  seen  that  has  not  a  decent  covering  for  his  body, 
generally  a  coarse,  cotton  gown,  belted  around  the  waist.  Traveling 
too,  which  was  formerly  attended  with  much  peril,  is  now  compara- 
tively safe  in  every  part  of  Egypt. 

The  improvt^inent  in  the  condition  of  the  peasantry,  however,  has 
principally  taken  place  since  the  present  incumbent,  (Abbas  Pacha) 
has  held  the  reins,  for  though  he  is  an  inefficient  man  compared  with 
Moluimmed  Ali,  still,  as  he  has  not  the  same  ambitious  schemes  to 
accomplish,  he  is  not  necessitated  to  grind  the  people  down,  to  Uie 
same  extent,  by  taxation,  so  that  the  salutary  reforms  of  his  grand 
father,  united  with  the  season  of  rep)ae  now  enjoyed,  are  working  out 
favorable  results. 

Mohammed  Ali  died  in  1849,  having  the  previous  year  resigned  the 
government  into  the  hands  of  his  son  Ibrihim,  who,  afler  administer- 
ing it  for  the  brief  space  of  two  monthK,  died,  and  his  son  Abbas,  suc- 
ceeded him. 

tbrihim  was  a  great  warrior,  and  conducted  the  campaigns  of  his 
fiither.  His  bloody  victories  have  given  him  a  place  in  history,  but 
Jie  deserves  the  detestation  of  mankind  for  his  heartless  cruelties.  To 
sport  with  human  life,  was  but  pastime  with  him.  When  his  victori- 
ous anny  entered  Aleppo,  that  city  contained  a  population  of  200,000, 
but  vuch  havoc  did  he  make  with  human  life,  that  only  75,000  remiuned 
when  he  lefl.  And  this  is  but  a  specimen  of  the  cruelties  he  practiced 
throughout  Syria,  in  the  Morea,*  on  the  Eastern  coast  of  the  Red  Sea, 
and  up  the  Nile.  He  was  literally  a  moral  monster.  A  characteris- 
tic anecdote  of  him  was  narrated  to  me  in  Cairo.  To.  sustain  life,  the 
poor  fellahs  are  in  the  habit  of  carrying  upon  their  backs,  or  swinging 
from  the  shoulder  under  one  arm,  skins  of  water  from  the  Nile  to  Cairo, 
in  the  hope  of  realizing  a  few  coppers  by  the  sale  of  it.  As  these  poor 
creatures  would  come  panting  into  the  town  under  the  burden,  (having 
brought  it  beneath  a  burning  sun,  a  distance  of  two  miles),  it  was  Ibri- 
him^s  &vorite  amusement,  to  sit  in  his  window  and  shoot  arrows  at  the 
skins  they  bore,  transfixing  them,  and  letting  out  the  watec  upon'the 
git>und ;  and,  if  he  happened  to  kill  the  carrier  himself,  it  detracted 
nothing  from  his  amusement. 

This  nxonster  was  the  favorite  son  of  the  Pacha,  and  into  his  hands 
ho  txisigned  the  sceptre  in  1848.  For  two  short  months  he  adminis- 
tered the  government,  to  the  detestation  of  all,  and  died,  a  victim  to 
his  vtoes,  loaving  the  vioeroyalty  to  his  son  Abbas  Pacha,  whose  prin- 
cipal oocupatlou  had  bsen  ram4ighting. 


MAGICIAKS  OF  EGYPT.  115 

CHAPTER  Xm. 

T%e  magicians  of  Egypi^  9erpeni<harm&r8f  introductum  to  a  serpeni^  Twrribie  eachihiiiion 
in  (he  iUreei,  Vie  black  art  profiled  only  by  one  tribe^  alhuion  to  them  in  scripiure, 
foreieUingfuiure  events. 

f^jpt  swarms  with  magicians  now^  as  it  did  in  the  days  of  Moses, 
prominent  among  whom  is  a  class  called  serpent  charmers.  I  have 
not  turned  aside  a  single  footstep  to  witness  any  of  their  performances, 
but  they  have  been  often  obtruded  offensively  upon  me  in  the  street. 
Soon  after  my  arrival  in  Cairo,  I  was  sitting  beneath  the  shade  of  an 
acacia  tree,  taking  lessons  in  Arabic,  from  one  of  my  Arab  "  friends,''  y 
when,  upon  hearing  approaching  footsteps,  I  looked  around,  and  in  a 
moment  more,  1  was  a  full  rod  from  the  spot,  in  an  opposite  direction, 
with  a  sentence  half  spoken  on  my  lips. 

As  I  had  turned  my  eye,  a  man  stood  within  a  foot  of  me,  with  a 
serpent  coiled  around  him,  having  his  head  protruded  directly  toward 
me,  and  eyeing  me  as  though  he  wanted  me  for  a  meal.  I  besought 
my  Arab  companion  to  send  the  man  instantly  away,  which  he  did. 
His  snakeship  was  spotted,  somewhat  like  the  rattle  snake,  but  appeared 
to  be  much  longer.  In  two  or  three  instances  I  was  shocked  in  a  sim- 
ilar manner.  These  serpents  are  said  to  be  of  the  most  venomcis 
kind. 

Those  who  follow  this  occupation  are  called  serpent  charmers^  and 
they  go  about  among  the  foreigners  on  the  public  promenade,  in  the 
hope  of  picking  up  a  few  coppers  from  those  who  have  a  taste  for  such 
entertainments.  One  branch  of  their  occupation  consists  in  charming 
serpents  away  from  houses,  and  ensuring  exemption  from  them  for  a 
price. 

But  if  you  want  your  hair  to  stand  on  end  with  horror,  you  must 
witness  a  procession  of  them  moving  along  the  street,  with  serpents 
coiled  about  their  necks  and  twisted  in  their  hair,  which  they  tear  and 
rend  with  their  teeth  without  hai'm,  uttering  yells  of  religious  ejacula- 
tion, foaming  at  the  mouth,  howling  and  swooning,  accompanied  by  a 
band  of  women,  whose  gesticulations,  contortions,  and  convulsive 
shrieks  pierce  your  very  soul  with  horror. 

Such  are  the  sights  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  of  Cairo.  These  per- 
formers sometimes  go  so  far  as  to  eat  their  writhing  victims  alive.  I 
did  not  witness  the  spectacle,  but  an  old  European  resident  of  the 
place,  assured  me,  that  he  had  seen  them  perform  the  horrid  act.  They 
are  said  oflen  to  carry  them  nestling  beneath  their  caps,  twisted  in 
their  hair,  apparently  from  a  fondness  they  have  contracted  for  them. 
The  professors  of  this  branch  of  the  black  art,  are  said  to  belong 
exclusively  to  a  particular  tribe,  who  claim  to  be  the  special  fitvorltes 


116  LAND  OF  THK  PTRAMIDa 

—— ^— ^^^— ■^■^^^^■^— — ■  ■    I  ^W^^^^Ml    ■■  1^1  ■■^■■■llMMIll  1—^-  II  ■  ■■■  ■    1^»^^       I     IBI^i  I        I     M»»    11  I       I  m         M^^^^  fc, 

of  heaydn,  their  immunitj  from  harm  being  ascribed  to  the  protection 
of  the  prophet.  On  the  other  hand,  it  has  been  asserted^  that  they  are 
rendered  invulnerable  by  the  use  of  an  evergreen  plant;  but  how  it  is, 
I  have  no  means  of  knowing — the  revolting  facts  only  having  been 
cognizable  to  me. 

Distinct  allusion  is  made  to  these  serpent  charmers  in  the  scriptures, 
from  which  one  would  infer,  that  they  sometimes  fail  in  their  incanta- 
tions, "  charm  they  never  so  wisely.''  And  in  Ecclesiasticus,  it  is 
written,  **  Who  shall  pity  the  charmer  that  is  bitten  by  a  serpent." 

There  is  another  class  of  performers,  who  employ  the  magic  art  to 
describe  absent  and  distant  scenes  and  objects,  with  startling  effect — 
scenes  and  objects,  concerning  which  they  could  have  had  no  possible 
previous  knowledge,  posting  you  up  on  any  particular  matter,  concern- 
ing which  you  ask  information,  to  your  heart's  content.  Two  British 
consuls,  have  recorded  their  surprise  at  the  truthfulness  of  their  des- 
criptions, notwithstanding  they  continued  incredulous. 

Jugglery,  slight  of  hand,  in  all  its  various  fonns,  is  practised  with 
masterly  success,  as  a  common  pastime  for  the  people.  There  seems 
to  be  no  end  to  the  tricks  of  the  juggler  here,  no  dark  secret  of  success 
which  he  has  not  thoroughly  mastered. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

Oreat  Mohammedan  fuimU,  generai  arranganmt  of  ihe  nwnhipers,  iheir  HroHffe 
evoiutiont,  Iheir  tranaporis^  their  exhaustion,  bletnng  imparted,  the  great  annwU 
mirade,  the  whirling  dervishes. 

My  first  entrance  into  Cairo  introduced  me  into  the  midst  of  a  vast 
multitude  of  the  faithful,  assembled  from  far  and  near,  to  celebrate  the 
great  annual  festival  in  honor  of  the  prophet,  commencing  on  the  20th 
of  December,  and  continuing  fifteen  days,  the  most  interesting  part  of 
which  was  yet  to  transpire. 

As  the  camp-ground  was  upon  the  great  square,  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  my  hotel,  I  often  lingered  about  the  grounds  in  pasilB- 
ing,  under  the  inspiration  of  the  occasion.  The  performers  were  divi- 
ded off  intd  circles,  separate  and  independent  of  each  other.  TOiere 
were  big  circles  and  little  circles,  in  each  of  which  various  parts  were 
constantly  being  enacted.  The  largest  was  perhaps  a  hundred  feet  in 
diameter,  the  circumference  of  which  separated  the  perfor  nera  inside 
from  the  throng  outside.  Around  this  entire  circumference  on  the 
inside,  and  &cing  the  outside  crowd,  extended  a  ring  of  men,  each 
standmg  with  his  right  arm  over  the  shoulders  of  the  one  next  to  him. 


GREAT  FESTIVAL.  lit 


and  all  moving  slowly  around  the  circle  to  the  lefl,  swinging  their 
bodies  backwards  and  forwards,  and,  as  they  swung  backwards,  raising 
the  left  foot,  and  bringing  it  violently  down  again,  as  they  bowed  them- 
selves forward,  each  movement  advancing  them  a  little  around  the  cir- 
cle, all  repeating  aloud  the  name  of  God,  crying  incessantly  Allah  ! 
Allah !  Allah!  ' 
As  I  approached,  many  of  them  were  so  hoarse  from  the  effect  of 

« 

thus  vociferating  the  name  of  God,  that  they  could  scarcely  articulate 
at  all ;  some  foamed  at  the  mouth,  and  not  a  few  were  so  exhausted, 
that  they  had  to  be  held  up  by  those  next  to  thend.  Occasionally  a 
chorus  would  break  forth  Hi !  Hi !  Hi !  Will  never  die !  Will  never 
die !  Will  never  die !  Some  would  break  from  the  cirde  in  transport, 
two  or  three  feet  from  the  ground,  clap  their  hands,  scream  out  the 
name  of  God,  and  swoon  away,  while  others  less  excitable,  moved 
calmly  around,  repeating  the  name  of  God  disthictly,  and  without 
Qmotioa.  v 

The  outside  throng  seemed  to  be  very  solemn,  and  there  was  quite  a 
strife  amopg  them  to  get  near  the  ring  of  performers,  as  they  passed 
around,  «nd  I  observed,  that  they  seemed  to  regard  it  as  a  great  privi« 
lege  to  be  seized  hold  of  convulsively  by  the  exhausted  and  foaming 
ones,  and  to  aid  in  holding  them  up  as  they  passed..  I  also  observed, 
that  those  who  were  far  gone,  took  pains  to  breathe  upon  those  who 
pressed  towards  them,  and,  upon  inquiry,  I  was  told,  that  a  special 
blessing  was  supposed  to  be  thus  conveyed,  and  that  the  stioiggle  in  the 
<70wd  was  to  get  within  readi  of  the  holy  influence. 

Inside  this  circulating  ring,  the  ground  was  covered  with  persons  in 
a  sitting  posture,  in  the  midst  of  whom  there  stood  bolt  upright  an  old 
man  with  a  heavy  white  beard^  his  eyes  shut,  and  his  head  in  perpetual 
motion,  not  exactly  backwards  and  forwards,  nor  yet  to  and  fro  side- 
wise,  but  partly  ]^e  one  and  partly  the  other — just  such  a  motion  in 
&ct^  as  any  one  can  make  by  describing  a  circle  with  the  tip  of  the 
nose.  There  stood  the  venerable  man  by  the  hour  together,  with  his 
olfactory  as  true  to  the  circle  as  the  needle  to  the  pole.  I  was  told  he 
was  a  great  saint. 

Sinailar  evolutions  were  ^  the  same  time  going  on  in  various  smaller 
circles  near  by,  and  also  in  the  tents,  with  this  difference,  however,  in 
the  motion  of  the  head,  that  the  tip  of  the  ol&ctory  generally  described 
an  arc  instead  of  a  eirde,  sometimes  like  a  rainbow  in  its  natural  posi; 
tion,  and  sometimes  like  the  same  inverted,  but  always  apparently  witb 
geometrical  precision. 

But  the  great  feat,  the  performance  of  the  annual  miracle,  was  to 
come  off  the  last  day.     A  horse  was  to  be  ridden  over  the  bodies  of 


/ 


118  LAND  OP  THE  FTRAMIDa 

the  devoted  ones  without  hurting  them,  by  reason  of  the  special  inter- 
position of  heaven.  I  was  early  upon  the  ground,  and  secured  a  posi- 
tion highly  favorable  to  observation. 

The  way  being  cleared,  various  processions  with  banners  passed 
along,  crying,  Allah!  Allah!  until  they  became  so  exhausted,  that 
many  of  them  had  to  be  held  up,  and  then  appeared  the  consecrated 
ones,  prostrating  themselves  at  full  length,  side  by  side,  upon  their 
faces,  with  their  arms  folded  under  their  heads,  all  crying,  Allah! 
Allah !  incessantly.  There  were  so  many,  that  lying  close  to  eadi 
other,  they  extended  several  rods,  forming  a  compact  causeway. 

And  now  there  was  seen  approaching  a  dignitary  splendidly  attired, 
and  mounted  upon  a  charger.  As  he  slowly  neared  the  prostrate 
bodies,  he  appeared  absorbed  in  thought — his  lips  were  in  motion,  his 
right  hand  gently  patted  his  breast,  while  his  lefl  held  the  reins.  The 
horse  moved  calmly  forward,  deporting  himself  with  a  solemnity  befit- 
ting the  great  occasion,  and,  putting  one  foot  upon  the  body  of  the  first 
man,  he  planted  the  other  upon  the  next,  and  thus  stepped  from  man 
to  man  over  the  entire  series,  taking  good  care  not  to  hurt  any  of 
them,  if  he  could  possibly  help  it,  by  placing  his  feet  upon  the  least 
vulnerable  part  of  the  body,  viz :  just  below  the  shoulders,  first  a  fore 
foot,  and  following  it  a  hind  one  upon  each  man,  having  evidently  been 
trained  for  the  purpose. 

Af\»r  the  horse  had  passed  over  them,  some  of  them  arose  to  their 
feet  of  their  own  accord,  while  others  were  taken  up  by  their  friends 
and  borne  awrfy,  crying,  Allah !  Allah  !  Those  who  were  taken  up 
appeared  to  be  helpless,  whether  from  the  injuries  they  received,  or 
from  the  exhaustion  consequent  upon  their  extraordinary  devotions,  I 
had  no  means  of  judging.   , 

I  see  no  necessity  of  any  one^s  being  hurt  in  such  an  operation,  unless 
the  horse's  foot  should  slide  down  the  side  of  the  body,  a  contingency 
which  he  took  good  care  to  guard  against.  To  account  satisfactorily 
for  entire  immunity,  we  have  only  to  consider,  that  only  one  half  the 
weight  of  the  horse  and  his  rider,  rested  upon  any  one  individual  at 
the  same  instant,  a  weight  not  exceeding  four  hundred  and  fifly  pounds, 
while  the  horse  was  unshod  and  smooth  footed.  Any  able  bodied 
man  ought  to  be  able  to  stand  that 

I  was  in  a  position  to  see  the  whole  performance,  standing  about  two 
or  three  rods  from  the  bodies,  and  in  full  vjew  of  them,  on  one  side  of 
the  passage  way  left  open  for  the  horse  to  pass,  and  the  moment  the 
the  animal  stepped  from  his  road- way  of  flesh  and  blood,  I  was  taken 
from  my  feet  by  the  moving  mass,  and  carried  right  to  the  spot  where 
they  were  taking  up  the  bodies. 


WHIBLINO  DEBYISHES,  Ac.  119 

Hie  officers  employed  in  keeping  back  the  crowd,  were  not  at  all 
delicate  as  to  the  means  they  employed,  beating  the  foremost  ones 
with  their  clubs  without  mercy,  when  the  entire  mass  would  sway  back 
before  them.  On  one  side,  back  of  the  crowd,  there  was  a  fosse,  some 
six  or  eight  feet  deep,  and  five  in  width,  and  lined,  bottom  and  sides, 
with  a  oement  as  hard  as  rock.  The  crowd  being  assailed  on  that  side, 
and  beaten  back,  the  hindermost  ones  were  crowded  over  into  the  fosse, 
filling  it  brimful. 

I  stood  among  the  foremost  ones,  and  sometimes  forward  of  all  the 
rest,  but  in  wielding  Uieir  clubs,  they  always  contrived  to  miss  my 
person,  though  often  hitting  the  Arabs  who  stood  almost  behind  me. 
This  was  from  no  affection  for  me  as  "  a  christian  dog,"  but  from  hav- 
ing the  fear  of  the  stars  and  stripes  before  their  eyes. 

On  another  occasion  I  witnessed  the  performances  of  the  whirling 
dervishes,  also  esteemed  by  these  people,  1  believe,  as  the  effect  of  a 
supernatural  agency,  and  a  great  religious  achievement ;  and  an  achieve- 
ment it  certainly  is  of  some  kind,  of  a  most  extraordinary  character, 
though  I  do  not  see  how  it  is  possible  to  connect  it  with  religion.  The 
performer  stands  forth,  and  commences  turning  round  and  round, 
slowly  at  first,  but  increasing  in  velocity,  until  by  and  by  he  gets  into 
a  perfect  whirl,  and  spins  like  a  top,  with  extended  arms ;  and,  what  is 
wonderful,  he  sometimes  continues  to  spin  thus  for  a  full  hour  without 
stopping. 

There  is  another  class  of  dervishes  so  religious,  that  they  will  take 
their  mouths  full  of  live  coals,  chew  and  swallow  them  with  impunity, 
or  hold  them  in  their  open  mouths,  blowing  them  into  a  glow  with  the 
breath. 

I  have  seen  them  so  religious  too,  that  they  woidd  seem  to  run  dag- 
gers right  through  their  own  bodies  without  hurting  them.  I  have 
also  seen  them  fall  upon  the  point  of  a  stiff  sword,  and  balance  them- 
selves upon  it,  without  touching  any  thing  else,  but  I  was  told  of  an 
instance  in  which  the  point  slipped  from  its  place,  and  pierced  the 
body  of  the  performer,  killing  him  instantly.  These  exploits  are  per- 
formed under  the  auspices  of  the  prophet 

There  is  no  end  to  the  forms  of  religious  fanaticism  here.  And  yet, 
the  mass  of  the  people  seem  not  to  be  affected  by  it.  Indeed  I  believe 
there  is  downright  infidelity  in  the  mass,  and  that,  but  for  custom  and 
authority,  they  would  throw  off  the  yoke.  The  entire  thing  looks  too 
much  like  a  fiurce  to  be  honestly  adhered  to  by  any  one. 


120  LAND  OF  THB  PTRA1CID& 

.  ■  -'  I 

OHAPTBR  XV. 

^art  for  the  pyramids^  dykes^  optical  iUunori,  ascent  of  the  big  pyramid^  vieiajrom 

the  summiif  exploration  of  the  interior. 

• 

On  a  fine  January  morning,  I  mounted  a  donkey,  and  started  for  tbe 
pyramids  of  Ghiza,  the  largest  in  i^ypt,  located  some  ten  miles  from 
Cairo,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  upon  the  borders  of  the  great 
Lybian  desert. 

My  direct  course  would  have  been  nearly  West,  but  my  Arab 
assured  me  that  the  water  was  not  yet  sufficiently  dried  away,  and 
that  I  must  go  double  the  distance,  if  I  would  avoid  the  danger  of  being 
swamped.  He  was  mistaken,  as  1  found  on  my  return,  but  I  yielded 
the  point,  and  he  took  me  a  circuitous  route  of  more  than  twenty  miles, 
amid  luxuriant  crops  of  wheat,  flax,  lentils,  trefoil,  <Ssc,  through  villa- 
ges with  their  contiguous  groves,  and  anon  tripping  along  for  miles 
upon  dykes  raised  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  and  even  forty  foet  above 
the  level  below,  serving  the  double  purpose  of  dams  to  regnlate  the 
overflowing  waters,  and  of  high-ways  through  the  liquid  expanse  dur- 
ing the  season  of  the  annual  flood-^«nd  1  found  myself  approaching  the 
pyramids  to  the  North,  my  donkey  man  having  followed  upon  the  full 
trot  the  whole  distance. 

i  had  taken  a  sort  of  circular  sweep  partly  around  these  gigantio 
structures,  and  the  appearance  they  presented  was  imposing  indeed, 
shelved  as  they  are  upon  an  elevation  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  valley  I  was  traversing.     But  grand  and  imposing  as 
they  appeared,  I  was  not  impressed  with  any  thing  like  a  full  sense  of 
their  magnitude,  until  I  drew  near,  and  felt  the  humbling  power  of 
their  awful  presence.    Their  very  large  size  upon  the  ground,  however, 
neutralizes,  to  some  extent,  the  effect  of  their  extraordinary  height    A 
tower,  not  more  than  fifty  feet  through  at  the  base,  and  rising  to  die 
same  height,  (near  five  hundred  feet,  or  about  thirty  rode)  would  be 
more  readily  appreciated  for  its  altitude,  than  if  its  base,  like  that  of 
the  great  pyramid,  were  spread  out  over  an  area  of  eleven  acres  of 
ground. 

There  was  one  effect  I  noticed  in  nearing  them,  which  struck  me 
with  peculiar  force.  When  less  than  half  a  mile  distant,  the  blocks  of 
stone  of  which  they  are  composed,  some  of  them  four  feet  thi<^,  and 
thirty  feet  long,  appeared  no  lai^er  than  common  brick,  liirougfa  one 
of  the  purest  atmospheres  in  the  world,  at  the  same  time  that  objects 
seen  isolated  and  alone,  at  the  same  distance,  and  through  the  same 
atmosphere,  did  not  contract  upon  my  vision  to  less  than  half  their 
real  magnitude.     1  ascribed  the  effect  to  the  extraordinary  size  of  the 


CLIMBIKG  THB  PYBAMID.  Ill 

stnictures,  the  stones  of  which  they  are  composed  bearing  about  the 
same  proportion  to  them  in  magnitude,  that  common  bricks  do  to  an 
ordinary  sized  edifice. 

The  next  thing  was  to  prepare  for  an  ascent,  and  tor  this  every  fecil- 
ity  was  at  hand.  An  Arab  Sheik,  with  a  tribe  of  dependants,  is  con- 
stantly upon  the  ground,  through  the  travelhig  season,  to  aid  all  who 
desire  it  for  a  price.  No  one,  I  believe,  attempts  to  ascend  without 
aid,  but  some  require  more,  and  some  less,  the  fat  and  lazy  requiring 
llnree  persons  each,  one  to  each  arm,  and  one  to  boost. 

The  layers  retire  as  they  ascend,  each  one  forming  a  step,  varying 
in  both  width  and  height,  from  a  few  inches  to  three  or  four  feet,  pre- 
senting a  very  irregular  and  jagged  staircase,  reaching  from  bottom  to 
top,  upon  all  the  four  sides. 

With  the  aid  of  two  men  I  commenced  my  ascent.  By  the  time  the 
twain  had  mounted  a  step,  I  managed  to  got  one  foot  upon  the  edge  of 
it)  if  it  was  not  more  than  two  teet  high,  and  then  stiffening  myself  a 
little,  was  pulled  up  bodily.  If  it  was  higher,  I  was  literally  dragged 
up. 

Having  toiled,  up,  up,  up,  until  1  tairly  drooped  with  fetigue,  my 
helpers  and  comforters  seated  me,  and,  thinking  to  speak  encouraging 
words,  told  me  we  were  half-way.  O  dear !  I  thought  we  were  almost 
up,  and  did  not  thank  them  for  dispelling  the  delusion.  But  there  was 
a  ^eat  object  to  be  achieved,  the  pyramid  was  to  be  scaled,  and  1  was 
to  stand  upon  its  top,  and  I  girded  myself  afresh,  and  upward  lurged 
my  way,  until  the  last  weary  step  had  been  taken,  and  stood  in  tri- 
umph upon  the  top  of  the  greatest  pyramid  in  the  world. 

The  summit  once  gained,  all  sense  of  weariness  was  gone,  and  I  felt 
new  vigor  running  through  all  my  frame,  under  the  exhilerating  infiu- 
enoe  of  the  scene  which  opened  upon  my  view.  Far  beneath,  in  the 
midst  of  the  dismal  waste,  was  a  belt  of  living  green,  stretching  North- 
ward and  Southward  far  away,  threaded  by  the  Nile,  spotted  with  vil- 
ifies, and  all  alive  with  a  busy  population,  but  bordered  and  invaded, 
cfi  either  hand,  by  glittering  sands,  which  spread  themselves  out,  in 
drifted  heaps,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  into  the  great  deserts  of  Lybia 
and  Sahara,  three  thousand  miles  away,  on  the  one  hand,  and  into  the 
Arabian  desert,  on  the  other,  presenting  one  everlasting  solitude, 
imlMroken  by  voiee  of  man,  or  song  of  bird,  or  yell  of  beast,  save  when 
1^  caravan  pursues  its  trackless  way  across  them,  followed  by  the  vul* 
ixtre  and  the  jackal,  in  quest  of  the  carcases  it  has  left  in  its  trainu 

The  top  is  about  thirty  feet  square,  covered  with  massive  stone,  and 
looks  as  though  it  might  originally  have  risen  to  an  apex. 

With  reluctant  step  I  oommeoced  my  descent  downwards  to  the 


122  MJTD  OF  THE  PYRAKIDa 

-    -       - 

earth ;  but  the  laws  of  gravitation  had  now  turned  in  my  &vor,  and, 
with  the  new  dtock  of  energy  I  had  acquired,  niy  task  was  easy. 
Indeed,  with  my  two  helpers  to  hold  me  up,  I  found  I  oould  make 
quite  a  show  of  speed  in  ambling  from  rock  to  rock. 

Arriving  within  thirty  or  forty  feet  of  the  bottom,  on  the  Nortii 
side,  we  paused  at  the  opening  which  led  to  the  interior,  and  entered 
with  lighted  candles,  descending  a  passage-way  about  three  or  three 
and  a  half  feet  square,  lined  with  polished  granite,  at  an  angle  of 
twenty -seven  degrees,  half  sliding  and  half  creeping,  until  we  had 
reached  a  distance  of  near  one  hundred  feet,  in  a  direct  line,  when,  turn- 
ing a  little,  we  entered  another  similar,  though  ascending  passage-way, 
crawling  up,  up,  up,  nearly  double  the  distance  we  had  descended,  and, 
at  the  end  of  it,  found  ourselves  in  the  queen's  chamber,  so  called,  an' 
apartment  seventeen  feet  by  fourteen,  and  twelve  in  height.  By  ano- 
ther similar  passage-way,  wc  were  conducted  to  what  is  called  the  king's 
chamber,  which  is  thirty -seven  feet  by  seventeen,  and  twenty  in  height. 
Both  apartments  are  formed  of  highly  polished  slabs  of  rose-colored 
granite. 

Many  other  passages  and  apartments  have  been  discovered,  but  not 
of  equal  note.  There  is  a  passage  downward  some  two  hundred  feet, 
called  the  well,  and  another  of  equal  depth  communicating  with  it  at 
the  bottom,  and  also  with  an  apartment  sixty-six  feet  long,  cut  out  of 
the  solid  rock  which  forms  the  foundation  of  the  pyramid. 

Nothing,  I  believe,  has  been  found  in  this  pyramid  (the  largest)  by 
the  moderns,  except  a  sarcophagus  of  rose-colored  granite,  eight  feet 
long,  three  feet  wide,  and  three  deep.  In  the  one  near  it,  a  little 
smaller,  were  found  a  sarcophagus  and  the  bones  of  a  bull,  the  latter 
being  one  of  the  degrading  objects  of  worship  to  which  the  ancient 
Egyptians  bowed  themselves  down. 

There  are  traces,  however,  of  both  these  pyramids  having  been 
entered  long  before  they  were  explored  by  modern  adventurers,  and 
particularly  by  the  early  Saracen  conquerors,  some  of  whose  names 
are  inscribed  upon  one  or  two  of  the  apartments.  An  Arabian  autlior 
states,  that  the  great  pyramid  was  entered  by  Almamoun,  caliph  of 
Babylon,  about  ten  centuries  ago,  and  that  he  found,  in  a  chamber  near 
the  top,  a  hollow  stone  containing  a  statue,  which  encased  the  body  of 
a  man,  having  on  a  breastplate  of  gold,  set  with  jewels,  to  which  was 
attached  a  sword  of  inestimable  value,  with  a  carbuncle  the  size  of  an 
egg  at  his  head,  shining  like  the  light  of  day,  and  upon  the  figure  were 
characters  written  which  no  man  understood. 

As  we  were  about  to  leave,  an  Arab  was  induced,  by  the  ofl&r  of  a 
piaster  or  two,  to  undertake  to  go  up  and  down  the  great  pyramid  in 


THB  PYBAMIDa  133 


the  sborteBt  possible  time,  and  he  aooomplished  the  feat  in  just  two 
minutes  and  a  half,  skipping  from  rock  to  rock  with  the  agility  of  a 
gazelle— -a  feat  which,  with  the  aid  of  two  men,  I  was  a  full  hour  in 
achieving.  The  distance  from  bottom  to  top,  cannot  be  much  less 
than  forty  rods.  • 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Ik^PyramidB — Design  ofiheir  Profeetora — when  BuM — hy  whom — Herodotus'  account 
— Tbmbe  in  Ou  neighborhood — The  great  Sphynx. 

We  left  the  reader  still  gazing  upon  the  pyramids  of  Ghiza,  those 
stupendous  piles  which  have  measured  four  thousand  years  of  the 
world's  history^ ;  'and  what  a  thought  it  is  to  entertain,  that  they  may 
yet  stand  through  all  time,  to  be  melted  down  in  the  fires  of  the  last 
day? 

Nothing  less  than  this  will  answer  the  design  of  their  projectors, 
self-glorification  having  doubtless  been  uppennost  in  their  thoughts. 
Hie  kings  of  E^ypt  seem  to  have  regarded  their  own  glorification  as 
the  chief  end  for  which  a  considerable  portion  of  the  human  race  were 
created,  each  one  doing  his  utmost  to  leave  behind  him  some  imper- 
ishable monument  to  his  memory,  at  whatever  cost.  Upon  a  tomb  in 
Upper  Egypt,  was  to  be  seen,  in  the  days  of  Herodotus,  this  egotistic 
inscription,  "I  am  Osymandyas,  king  of  kings,  if  you  would  know 
how  great  I  am,  surpass  my  works." 

Doubtless  these  enduring  piles  were  designed  for  the  three-fold  pur- 
pose of  self-glorification,  of  t^mbs  for  their  builders,  and  of  temples 
of  worship.  Their  enduring  character  was  not  only  adapted  to  per- 
petuate the  &me  of  the  builders,  but  also,  in  connection  with  the  practice 
of  embalming,  to  preserve  the  body  inviolate,  to  be  reanimated,  after 
the  long  series  of  transmigrations  to  which  the  soul  was  supposed  to 
be  doomed,  had  been  passed  through,  while  the  remains  of  objects  of 
worship  found  in  them  indicate  their  use  as  temples.  An  Indian  Brah- 
min, after  heanng  a  description  of  them,  pronotmced  them  to  be  tem- 
ples at  cnce,  and  there  is  said  to  be  considerable  resemblance  between 
structures  of  this  kind  in  Egypt  and  India. 

According  to  the  best  authorities,  the  oldest  and  largest  of  the  pyr- 
amids (the  one  I  ascended  and  explored)  was  erected  twenty-one  hun- 
dred years  before  the  christian  era.  It  is  stated  by  Herodotus,  that, 
as  a  preparatory  work,.ten  years  were  consumed  in  building  the  cause- 
way across  the  valley  from  the  west  bank  of  the  Nile,  on  which  to 
transport  stone— winch  road,  in  some  places,  was  forty-eight  f^t  high, 


1^  LAND  09  THB  PYRAMIDS. 

being  btdlt  of  polished  marble,  and  adorned  with  the  figures  of  aiii> 
male ;  a  work,  he  adds,  scarcely  infisrior  to  that  of  building  the  great 
pyramid  itself. 

The  same  author  says  of  the  monarch  who  built  it,  that  he  ^^  banned 
the  avenues  to  every  temple,  and  forbade  the  Egyptians  to  offer  saeii* 
fices  to  the  gods,  afler  which  he  compelled  them  to  do  the  work  of 
slaves.  Some  he  condemned  to  hew  stones  out  of  the  Arabian  moun- 
tains, and  drag  them  to  the  banks  of  the  Nile ;  others  were  stationed 
to  receive  the  same,  and  transport  them  to  the  edge  of  the  Lyt^ian 
desert.  In  this  service  a  hundred  thousand  men  were  employed,  who 
were  relieved  every  three  months."  He  adds,  that  "  the  pyramid 
itself  was  the  work  of  twenty  years — all  which  seems  to  show,  that 
the  government,  at  the  time,  was  in  possession  of  a  foreign  race  of 
kings,  who  were  hostile  to  the  religion  of  the  country.  And  it  was  at 
this  very  time,  that  the  Shepherd  Kings  are  allowed  to  have  had  pos- 
session of  Egypt.     It  is  supposed,  with  good  reason,  to  have  been 

from  the  hatred  thus  generated  in  the  minds  of  the  Egyptians,  that 
shepherds  are  said  to  have  been  an.  abomination  to  the  Egyptians, 

when  the  family  of  Jacob  arrived  in  the  land  of  Goshen. 

These  pyramids  appear  to  have  been  erected  a  short  time  previous 
to  the  captivity  of  Joseph,  according  to  the  calculations  of  our  beat 
chronologists.  The  numerous  other  pyramids  of  Egypt,  some  of 
-wthich  are  but  little  smaller,  were  built  during  the  thousand  years 
which  followed,  the  earlier  part  of  which  term  of  time  embraced  the 
period  of  Israelitish  bondage  in  Egypt ;  but  we  have  no  evidence  that 
the  Israelites  were  employed  upon  any  of  them.  So  £u*  as  appears, 
diey  were  tasked  only  in  making  brick,  doubtless  for  some  kingly 
structure.  In  proof  that  they  were  employed  upon  the  pyramids, 
however,  we  are  told,  that  the  workmen  upon  those  structures  were 
fed  upon  leaks  and  onions,  and  that  the  Israelites  in  the  desert  sighed 
for  the  leaks  and  onions  and  the  garlic  which  were  given  them  in  Egypt; 
but  this  only  proves  that  both  they  and  the  workmen  on  the  pyramids 
bad  the  same  fare. 

According  to  ancient  historians,  the  pyramids  were,  overlaid  with 
polished  stone.  The  top  of  the  smaller  of  the  two  laige  structures,  is 
still  thus  encased.  It  is  supposed  that  rude  hands  have  been  laid  upon 
them,  stripping  them  of  their  beautiful  exterior,  to  be  appropriated  to 
other  uses.  This  casing  is  said  by  one  author  to  have  been  covered 
with  hieroglyphics  sufficient  to  fill  ten  thousand  volumes. 

From  the  top  of  the  great  pyramid,  and  indeed  from  its  base,  is  to 
be  se^  a  great  number  of  tombs  stretching  away  to  the  north  and  to 
the  soutl^  as  fiu:  ap  the  eye  can  reach,  and  it  veiily  seemed  like  being 


THE  GFBSA.T  SPHTIOL  135 


in  the  midst  of  a  vast  city  of  the  dead.  Some  have  assigned  to  these 
mausoleums  of  the  dead  a  greater  antiquity  than  that  of  the  pyramids 
themselves,  hut  the  more  probable  opinion  is  that  they  are  more  recent, 
and  are  constructed  from  the  beautiful  casings  of  the  pyramids,  which 
have  been  stripped  off  for  the  purpose.  They  are  built,  for  the  most 
party  of  huge  masses  of  stone,  of  irr^ular  surface,  but  nicely  adjusted 
to  each  other,  with  flat  roofs^  having  parapets  of  stone,  and  presenting 
an  interior,  stuccoed,  and  painted,  the  amusements  and  occupations  of 
tiae  people  being  represented  on  the  walls.  Mutilated  statuary,  finely 
wrought,  and  decayed  mummies,  are  also  abundant. 

From  the  same  point  of  observation  are  to  be  seen  the  pyramids  of 
Abousir,  rising  upon  the  view  a  short  distance  to  the  south. 

A  little  way  from  the  great  pyramids,  and  on  a  scale  of  magnificence 
to  correspond  with  them,  is  to  be  seen  rising  out  of  the  sand,  the  head 
and  shoulders  of  that  nondescript  monster,  so  much  in  favor  with  the 
ancient  Egyptians,  the  Sphynx.  All  that  now  appears,  the  head,  neck 
and  shoulders,  thirty-five  feet  in  height,  represent  the  human  form, 
while  its  body,  that  of  the  lion,  in  a  recumbent  posture,  with  its  paws 
projecting  fifty  feet  forward,  sleeps  in  undisturbed  repose  beneath  the 
sands  of  the  desert.  It  was  imcovered  by  the  French,  near  the  begin- 
ning of  the  present  century,  and  the  stretch  of  its  back  was  found  to 
be  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  It  contains  interior  apartments,  and 
there  are  entrances  both  upon  the  back,  and  at  the  top  of  the  head,  the 
latter,  it  is  suggested,  having  subserved  the  arts  of  the  priests  in  utter- 
ing oracles.  The  countenance  is  placid  and  benign,  and  is  supposed  to 
r^resttit  the  ancient  Egyptians,  the  features  not  being  very  unlike 
those  of  the  present  race  of  Nubians,  but  more  nearly  resembling  the 
European  than  the  negro. 

'Aia  monster  is  said  to  be  cut  out  of  a  spur  of  the  moimtain  rock, 
of  which  it  stUl  constitutes  a  part.  It  was  doubtless  an  object  of  wor- 
ship, the  remains  of  small  temples  and  altars  having  been  discovered 
in  front  of  it,  between  the  fore  legs,  with  the  effects  of  fire  upon  the 
latter,  as  though  burnt  sacrifices  had  been  offered. 

This  wonderfU  statue  is  represented  by  those  who  have  seen  it  in 
an  uncovered  state,  to  have  exhibited  a  most  marvellous  beauty  and 
symmetry  of  parts,  and  to  have  excited  the  astonishment  of  travelers 
beyond  anything  to  be  seen  in  Egypt. 

But  it  was  a  mere  pigmy  to  the  image  which  one  of  the  creatures 
of  Alexander  proposed  to  construct  to  his  memory,  by  converting 
Mount  Atlas  into  a  statue,  one  foot  of  which  should  contain  a  city  of 
tan  thousand  ijihabitantSy  while  from  the  other  a  river  poured  into  the 
seaL  There  could  scarcely  ha.ve  been,  however,  a  serious  thought  of 
executing  it. 


126  LAITD  OF  THE  PTBA1I1D& 


CHAPTBR  XVn. 

FrmraiMmM  for  ascending  Vie  Nile — Vessel  aU  to  myself— Laying  in  Provisions — 
^  Orango  Womai^^Scene  at  (he  ConstWs  Ofice—Tfie  seven  GkAs—De»er^p1fkm 
of  my  V(usd. 

From  the  time  of  my  first  setting  foot  in  Elgypt,  I  had  kept  in  view 
riiy  purpose  of  ascending  the  Nile,  as  far  as  Nubia.  And  now  the 
time  had  ^me  that  I  must  go,  or  run  the  risk  of  being  deserted  by 
the  north  wind  before  reaching  my  destination,  and  overtaken  by  the 
simoom  of  the  desert  on  my  return,  for  January  was  already  upon  me, 
and  scarcely  two  months  remained  for  the  trip. 

For  more  than  half  the  year,  embracing  the  winter  months,  the 
wind  blows  from  the  north,  or  up  the  Nile.  Toward  the  close  of  Feb- 
ruary, or  the  first  of  March,  it  veers  round  to  the  east,  and  soon  set- 
tles in  the  south,  breathing  over  Egypt  the  hot  blasts  of  the  desert, 
during  the  entire  spring  months,  all  traveler's  scudding  away  at  their 
approach. 

Generally,  some  half  dozen  travelers,  more  or  less,  unite,  and  em- 
ploy a  dragoman  to  take  them  the  trip  for  a  specified  consideration. 
When  I  was  in  readiness  to  go,  however,  there  were  no  foreigners  in 
Cairo  to  join  me,  and  it  was  getting  too  late  in  the  season  to  wait  for 
new  arrivals.  I  was  reduced  to  the  necessity  then,  either  of  incurring 
the  expense  of  both  dragoman  and  vessel  for  myself  alone,  or  of  at- 
tempting an  anomaly  in  Egypt  by  playing  the  dragoman  for  myself. 

I  chose  the  latter  alternative,  caring  not  a  fig  for  the  opprobrium 
which  was  to  come  along  with  it,  by  reason  of  my  thus  relinquishing 
all  Qiaira  to  consideration  as  "  a  gentleman."  As  those  who  clubbed, 
however,  had  only  the  fourth,  fifth,  or  sixth  part  of  both  vessel  and 
dragoman  each,  I  flattered  myself,  that,  with  the  whole  vessel  to  my- 
selfj  arid  the  stars  and  stripes  waving  at  mast-head,  I  would  have  at 
least  as  much  dignity  afloat  as  the  best  of  them. 

Down  I  hastened  to  old  Boulac,  where  lay  every  variety  of  craft 
the  country  afforded.  My  errand  being  known,  I  was  besieged  at  once 
by  captains  and  owners,  all  fierce  for  a  bargain.  But  I  soon  bluffed  off 
the  whole  tribe  of  vociferous  applicants  save  one — ^with  him  I  struck 
a  bargain  for  a  trim,  two  masted  vessel,  (called  a  Nile-boat),  having  a 
very  comfortable  ciibin  for  four  persons,  to  be  manned  by  a  captain 
and  six  men.  My  entire  stock  of  Arabic  was  exhausted  in  the  oper^^ 
tion,  to  say  nothing  of  the  borrowing  I  did. 

The  next  thing  was  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  provisions.  My  inventory 
was  soon  filled,  but  one  thing  I  had  forgotten,  a  supply  of  oranges  and 
lemons,  and  in  laying  in  these, !  had  all  I  could  do  to  make  the  vixens 
believe  that  I  knew  what  it  was,  in  Arabic,  to  be  cheated.    Hie  orange 


▲  FABOB»  THK  SBYEN  GLXTBa  12Y 

womAn  put  a  gold  pieoe  upon  me  for  two  or  three  piastres  more  than 
I  knew  to  be  its  value.  I  appealed  to  a  grave  Mussulman  standing 
bj,  but  he  assured  me  that  I  was  wrong  and  the  woman  right,  said  he 
would  be  my  friend,  and  assist  me  in  any  further  purchases  I  wished 
to  make.  And  so,  taking  him  along  to  the  lemon  woman,  I  took  good 
care  to  present,  in  payment  for  the  lemons,  the  gold  piece  I  had 
received  from  the  orange  .woman,  when  it  was  promptly  refused,  ex- 
cept for  the  value  I  had  put  upon  it  Turning  to  my  new  made  friend, 
I  upbraided  him  for  his  treachery,  when,  without  uttering  a  word,  he 
took  the  disputed  piece,  returned  it  to  the  woman  from  whom  I  received 
it,  and  brought  me  the  exact  change,  and  then  slunk  away. 

Our  craft  was  now  manned  and  provisioned  for  a  voyage  of  two 
months,  but  we  were  not  near  ready  yet.  The  "  pomp  and  circum- 
stance ''  of  taking  the  owner  and  captain  of  the  boat  before  the  Ameri- 
can Vice-Oonsul  General,  to  impress  upon  them  a  sense  of  their  im- 
pending responsibilities,  remained  to  be  enacted.  Three  copies  of  a 
contract,  covering  as  many  sheets  of  foolscap,  were  drawn  up  by  said 
functionary,  for  a  fee  of  three  dollars,  to  be  signed  and  sealed,  one  for 
each  party,  and  one  to  be  put  on  file  in  the  0>nsurs  office. 

The  object  was  to  burden  them  with  an  awful  sense  of  their  respon- 
ribilities  in  reference  to  the  important  matter  they  had  undertaken, 
which* was  no  less  than  to  transport  a  subject  of  the  American  govern- 
ment many  himdreds  of  miles  up  the  Nile,  and  bring  him  safely  back. 
Aside  from  appliances  of  this  kind,  there  is  no  confidence  to  be  placed 
in  their  faithless  pledges ;  but,  such  children  are  they,  and  so  trained 
to  look  with  terror  upon  governmental  authority,  that  such  a  farce  is 
not  without  its  effect.  It  was  amusing  to  see  with  what  trepidation 
the  twain  stood  in  the  august  presence  of  the  Consul. 

1  thought  we  were  now  ready,  and  repaired  to  the  landing  for  the 
purpose  of  embarking,  when,  lo !  the  captain  refused  to  start,  until  I 
should  put  the  vessel  in  a  state  of  defense,  assuring  me  that  otherwise 
he  could  not  be  responsible  for  my  safety.  I  asked  him  vfhxU  defence  f 
Seven  clubs^  he  said,  a  club  to  each  man,  as  a  protection  against  rob- 
bers and  dogs,  costing  three  and  a  half  piasters  each,  a  dollar  in  all. 
After  some  demurring,  I  submitted  to  the  demand,  the  vessel  was 
armed,  and,  everything  being  right  now,  we  spread  our  sails  to  the 
breeze. 

But  what  is  a  Nile-boat  ?  We  can  scarcely  be  sidd  to  haf  e  gotten 
under  way,  until  this  question  is  answered,  and  so  I  will  dash  off  some 
sort  of  portraiture,  taking  my  own  crafl  for  a  pattern. 

By  measurement,  it  is  seventy  feet  long,  with  breadth  of  beam  in 
proportion,  having  bow  and  stem,  and  indeed  its  entire  structure  quite 


138  ULND*  or  THB  FYJELiMIDB. 

^ ~- ^^ — " — — ^, . . ^__^^_^.^.^  -■-    1  -  I     ■  -  n 

^**— "^ • r—        -  II  I—  ■■■■■jLiBi  m^ww    ■  11  I  ■ 

vesseUike.  The  snug  little  cabin,  the  floor  of  which  is  nearly  on  a 
level  with  the  deck,  though  calculated  for  but  four  persons,  might  ac- 
commodate six,  but  I  have  found  it  quite  an  advantage  to  have  it  all  to 
myself,  with  pen  and  ink. 

In  front  the  roof  projects,  forming  a  portico,  there  being  a  seat  on 
either  hand,  outside  the  door,  where  one  can  sit  by  the  hour  together, 
to  watch  the  edying  current,  the  passing  siul,  the  sporting  water  fowl, 
the  retiring  landscape,  the  drifted  sands,  and  the  far-reaching  ledge 
which  walls  up  the  valley  of  the  Nile. 

But  the  masts  and  the  sails — ^to  what  shall  I  liken  them  ?  Who  has 
not  seen  an  old-fashioned  well-crotch,  with  a  sweep  poised  in  its  fork 
forty  feet  long,  the  big  end  resting  on  the  earth,  and  the  little  end  lift- 
ing itself  up  on  high,  with  a  pole  dangling  from  it,  and  a  bucket,  ^*  the 
old  oaken  bucket,"  "the  moss-covered  bucket,"  "that  hung  in  the 
well  ?"  That  is  it  exactly,  only  leave  off  the  pole  and  bucket,  and, 
instead  of  a  crotch,  have  a  small  post  about  the  same  height,  to  the 
top  of  which  the  sweep  is  attached  by  a  pivot. 

The  sweep  is  seventy  feet  long,  and  is  to  sustain  a  single  sail  of  the 
same  length.  The  sail  is  triangular,  and,  as  one  of  its  sides  is  attadi- 
ed  to  the  sweep  its  entire  length,  one  of  the  three  angles  is  of  course 
at  the  top  of  it,  and  another  at  the  bottom.  But  the  upper  angle  is 
very  sharp,  while  the  lower  one  is  almost  a  right  angle,  which  would 
of  course  bring  the  third  angle  pretty  low  down.  To  this  a  rope  is 
attached,  which,  being  fastened  to  the  deck,  completes  the  arrange- 
ment. 

The  lower  or  big  end  of  the  sweep  resta  upon  the  deck,  and  when 
moved  to  one  side  of  it,  the  upper  end  projects  over  in  the  opposite 
direction,  and  vice  versa.  The  only  changes  necessary  to  acconuno- 
date  the  sail  to  the  veering  winds,  or  rather  to  the  variaticms  occasion- 
ed by  the  frequent  windings  of  the  river,  consist  in  thus  moving  it  from 
side  to  side. 

Some  boats  have  two  of  these  enormous  sails  and  others  but  one — 
mine  had  two.  When  the  wind  is  rearward,  or  nearly  so,  the  two 
sails  project  in  opposite  directions,  wing-like,  but  so  frequent  are  the 
windings  of  the  river,  that  the  boat  scarcsly  has  time  thus  to  spread 
its  wings,  before  a  change  is  necessary.  With  a  »de  wind  both  must 
project  one  way. 

Thus  rigged,  provisioned,  manned  and  armed,  we  spread  sails,  and 
were  soon  careering  before  the  wind,  plowing  our  way  up  the  strong 
and  powerfrd  current  of  the  Nile« 


8KBTCHBS  OF  BORDBB  LIFB.  It9 


/ 
i 


SKETCHES  OF  BORDER  LIFE. 


BT  A  ciYiL  maurnB. 


caaAPTBE  m. 

Omvp  lAfe-^Gcme — Supper — AfUr  Supper — A  Snake/ — Ravines — Baask  Btuihea-^ 
DiOi  of  Sovp^A  IHUmma^JEveimg't  J!hiierknfimeni--'Mdovi9-^(hrf^fieid9 — iS^ 
of  the  Country. 

I  returned  at  night  with  a  load  of  game  sufficient  for  the  wants  of 
the  whole  party,  after  satisfying  the  voracity  of  t)ur  miscellaneous 
troop  of  dogs.  The  squirrels  were  rejected  as  requiring  too  much 
labor  in  dressing ;  pigeons,  they  had  all  got  sick  of,  and  I  appropriated 
the  prairie  chickens  to  my  own  use,  without  troubling  myself  to  ascer- 
tain their  tastes  and  opinions  regarding  them.  I  never  met  with  a 
richer  delicacy  than  a  youug  and  tender  prairie  chicken;  broiled  on  the 
coals,  well  buttered,  and  served  on  a  chip,  or  a  clam  shell.  The  im- 
promptu cooking  and  table  service,  adds  a  zest  that  can  only  be  appre- 
ciated by  those  who  have  tried  the  experiment ;  appetite  never  fails 
imder  such  circumstances.  The  veriest  dyspeptic  in  the  world,  taking 
the  daily  exercise  required  of  us,  varying  from  five  to  twenty-five 
miles,  breathing  the  clear  fresh  air  of  the  prairies,  and  sleeping  in  the 
open  air  at  night,  would  not  turn  away  from  a  prairie  chicken,  or  a 
half  a  dozen  plump  quails,  which  he  had  broiled,  salted,  peppered  and 
buttered  to  a  nicety ;  with  a  sweet  potato  a  foot  long,  hot  from  the 
ashes  before  him,  all  done  with  his  own  hands,  and,  to  the  best  of  his 
recollection,  just  as  "  his  mother  used  to  do  it,"  for  that,  as  fiir  as 
my  observation  extends,  is  the  necessary  point  by  which  perfection  is 
attained,  and  is  the  "  ultima  thule  "  of  man's  ideas  in  regard  to  the  art 
of  cookery.  It  will  be  readily  surmised,  that  I  did  fiill  justice  to  my 
supper,  and  performed  some  gastronomic  feats  that  convinced  my  new 
acquaintances  that  I  had  seen  service  before,  which  opinion  they  did 
not  hesitate  to  express. 

After  supper,  the  pipes  were  called  into  requisition,  and  the  crowd 
soon  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  smoke.  The  effect  of  the  supper,  and 
the  stimulating  weed,  soon  began  to  manifest  itself  in  the  jokes  and 
good  humored  sallies,  that  passed  rapidly  back  and  forth.  The  events 
of  the  day  were  freely  discussed,  and  woe  to  any  one  who  had  given 
cause,  ever  so  slight,  for  a  "  rig,"  for  he  seldom  heard  the  last  of  it 


180  8KBTCHBS  OF  BORDBR  UFK 

If  some  unlucky  wight  had  turned  a  back-handed  somerset  to  avoid  a 
'*  mastfasauga,'*  or  fell  into  a  slough  up  to  his  ears,  his  misfortunes  were 
detailed  for  the  benefit  of  the  party,  with  sudi  additions  and  embel- 
lishments as  suggested  themselves  to  the  narrator,  leaving  the  true 
version  of  the  affair  entirely  in  the  background,  while  the  hero  of  the 
tale  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  being  laughed  at,  till  he  got  a 
chance  to  return  the  compliment.  The  engineers  in  the  meantime, 
with  maps  and  diagrams  spread  upon  the  ground,  deliberated  on  future 
courses,  traced  "  profiles,^'  or  calculated  angles  and  "traverses." 

As  the  nignt  wore  on,  eadi  man  wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket  and 
.  sought  a  resting  place  in  the  tent,  or  in  the*  open  air,  as  suited  his 
fimcy.  The  silence  gradually  became  general,  interrupted  only  by  an 
occasional  snore,  and  sometimes  by  the  indistinct  conversation  carried 
on  by  a  pair  who  had  sought  a  bed  upon  the  prairie  grass  at  a  little 
distance.  Soon  all  were  asleep,  and  1  had  slept  an  hour  or  two  myself^ 
when  I  was  awakened  by  the  cry  of  "  Snake !  snake !  bring  a  light ! 
Halloo !  Oh  Lord "  accompanied  by  a  bound  of  sue  feet  into  the 
air  of  Fred  the  Kentuckian.  A  light  was  speedily  found,  and  dis- 
played that  personage  holding  on  to  the  tent  pole,  and  kicking  with  all 
his  miirht  at  the  empty  air.  His  efforts,  however,  were  not  entirely 
in  3,  for  he  soon  brought  downTmoderate  sued  garter  snake 
around  his  ankle,  which  he  sent  flying  through  the  air,  and  seemed 
much  relieved.  The  incident  did  not  cause  much  excitement  among 
bis  comrades,  who  only  raised  their  heads,  and  laughed  at  him  till  the 
woods  rang.  In  the  morning  not  one  of  them  recollected  having  seen 
the  snake,  and  nearly  convinced  him  that  he  had  had  a  fit  of  "delirious 
tremenduous."  For  myself,  J  confess  it  made  me  a  little  nervous,  and 
I  did  not  go  to  sleep  so  readily  as  before,  but  I  soon  got  accustomed 
to  even  that 

At  day  light  the  cook  was  called,  a  fire  built,  and  break&st  cooked, 

consisting  of  fried  ham,  potatoes,  bread,  and  butter,  coffee,  and  the 

invariable  accompaniment  of  every  meal  in  Iowa,  a  tin  can  of  molasses. 

It  is  generally  eaten  with  bread  as  a  dessert,  though  a  &vorite  camp 

dish  is  a  mixture  of  about  half  and  half  of  molasses  and  pork  grease,  a 

dish  that  I  can  recommend  as  a  dainty  of  the  first  order.     It  requires 

a  little  fortitude  to  commence  with  it,  but  soon  it  becomes  a  fevorite 

dieh,  and  is  in  universal  use  in  the  pinery  camps.     Fred  had  need  of 

ail  his  activity  at  meal  time,  to  keep  dishes  filled  as  fast  as  they  were 

emptied,  for  there  is  no  place  equal  to  the  camp,  to  give  an  appetite ; 

pork,  potatoes,  and  every  thing,  are  greedily  devoured,  with  two  or 

three  pint  cups  of  coffee,  an  egg  being  broken  in  it  in  place  of  cream. 

The  pipes  were  then  filled,  and  lighted,  and  all  stood  ready  for  the 

s 


ifydsD  ts  A  8!fEf^.  mi 


day's  work.  We  were  engaged  in  exploring  tfee  ravines  connected 
tiitii  the  tributaries  of  tlie  Mississipt)!  at  that  tame,  in  search  of  feasi- 
ble railroad  routes  through  and  over  them.  These  ravines  and  blufi 
are  firom  fifty  to  two  hundred  feet  in  depth,  and  lore  covered  with  a 
dense  under  growth  of  hade  brush,  which  grows  to  a  height  often  or 
twelve  feet,  and  so  thick  that  nothing  can  make  headway  through  it, 
ezoept  the  long  noeed  hogs  that  roam  these  jungles  in  an  afanost  wild 
state.  The  operation  of  dearing  a  line  was  therefore,  very  laborious, 
and  not  more  than  from  hM  a  mile  to  a  mile  .a  day  was  accomplished. 
If  th^  camp  was  within  half  a  mile  of  us  at  dinner  time,  we  generally 
went  there  to  dinner,  if  not,  the  teamster  brought  it  to  us.  This  meal 
generally  consisted  of  game  of  some  kind,  that  the  cook  managed 
to  kill  in  our  absence,  he  loading  all  the  guns  in  llie  camp,,  and  lying  in 
wait  for  whatever  chanced  to  come  in  range  first,  so  that  the  dinner 
stew  ofben  consisted  of  conglomerate  ingredients,  prairie  chicken,  squir- 
rel pigeon,  rabbit,  pork,  and  occasionally  of  frog's  hind  quarters,  done 
to  amoety ;  while  at  other  times  some  adventurous  old  sow,  approachp 
ing  too  near  the  muzzles  of  Fred's  battery,  had  occasion  to  mourn  the 
loss  of  a  fine  roaster  or  two. 

Upon  one  occasion,  we  had  procured  a  good  sized  piece  of  beef  from 
a  fhrmer  who  was  butchering,  which  we  found  very  agreeable  for  a 
change,  and  |did  hiot  leave  till  all  was  gone  but  the  bones.  These,  it 
was  decided,  should^be  made  into  soup,  and  all  bands  expected  a  grand  ' 
treat  on  the'oooafflon.  Each  one  had  a  receipt  to  offer  for  its  concoc- 
tion^ whose  chief  recommendation  was  that  it  was  the  way  his  mother 
made  it  when  he  was  a  boy ;  and  I  mtiy  remark,  that  1  have  always 
noticed,  that  when  a  man  gets  into  camp,  away  from  the  concoctions 
and  queer  mixtures  of  professional  cooks,  he  always  reverts  at  once  to 
^  the  way  his  mother  did  it,"  and  in  fact,  I  don't  know  that  1  ever  saw 
a  man  that  did  not  think^bis  mother  the  best  cook  in  the  world.  But 
to  liie  case  in  question.  The  soup  was  duly  ^  did,"  and  sent  out  to  us 
St  eleven  o'clock^n  the  morning. 

I  went  to  the  wagon  Hx>  look  at  it  when  it  came  out,  and  was  delight- 
ed with  the  prospect  before  me.  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 
tasting  so  delectable  a  compound,  and  searched  round  for  a  spoon  for 
that  purpose,  but  to  my  surpriseSnone  was  to  be  found.  1  did  not 
realiK  the  extent  of  our  calamity,  until  I  reflected  that  we  were  five 
miles  from  camp,  ^1^  nothing  but  soup  for  dinner,  and  no  spoons  to 
eat  it  with,  the  same  as  dinnerless,  and  worse,  tantalised  as  we  wera^ 
with  the  long  expected  dish,  now  placed  before  us  in  all  its  fragrant 
richness^  without  being  able  to  taste  it.  And  then  I  always  was  inor* 
dinately  fond  of  soup.ji^But  he  had  ruined  all  by  foi^getting  the  spoons. 


US  SEBTGHBS  OF  BOUtUt  UWK 

• ■■•  ■  -     - 

I  fell  into  a  brown  study  on  jtbe  subjeot,,  and  set  my,  wits  to  work  lor 
a  remedy*  It  chanoed  that  I  hud  read,  when  a  boy,  stories  of  camp 
lile,  and  one  of  a  party  of  hunters^  who  were  in  a  similar  predioament, 
only  their  soup  was  made  of  dried  peas,  and  therefi>re  not  to  be  com.* 
pared  to  OUTS,  so  I  determined  to  profitrby  their  experienoe.  I  went 
to  the  creek,  a  half  a  ipile  off,  and  selecting  a  good  sized  dam  shelly 
fitted  a  handle  to  it  by  sticking  it  into  the  end  of  a  split  stick. 

Making  sure  that  every  thing  was  right,  so  as  to  admit  of  no  &ilore, 
I  took  them  apart,  put  .them  in  my  pocket,  "  and  bided  my  time." 
When  dinner  hour  arrived,  a  grand  ni^  was  made  for  the  wagon^  sad 
"  99up  /"  was  the  cry.  The  cover  was  taken  off  the  kettle,  and  aM 
gathered  around  with*  open  mouths.  Teamster  was  rummagiiig  for 
spoons,  and  the  boys  were  getting  impatient,  and  '^  Hurra,  them 
spoons !''  saluted  him  half  a  dozen  times  before  he  announced  the  fiiet, 
that  the  spoons  were  all  safe  in  the  camp  five  miles  away.  Dismay 
was  pictured  on  every  countenance  at  hearing  this,  and  imprecatioDs 
fell  thick  and  fast  upon  the  head  of  the  unlucky  cook.  Gazing  vdth 
blank  looks  into  the  kettle  of  soup,  they  asked  ^^  what's  to  be  done !" 
Drawing  forth  clam  shell  and  stick,  with  a  grand  flourish,  I  fell  to  work 
in  good  earnest  It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  various  emo- 
tions depicted  in  the  countenances  that  surrounded  me,  as  they  sat 
gazing  at  me  without  a  word,  watching  eadi  mouthful  as  it  rose  from 

the  dish. 

By  the  time  I  had  got  through,  a  detachment  arrived  from  the  creek 
with  a  supply  of  clam  shells,  and  I  kindly  offered  to  loan  the  use  of 
mine,  foregoing  any  further  operations  upon  the  dinner,  in  considera- 
ation  of  having  eaten  at  the  first  table. 

Supper  was  the  crowning  glory  of  the  day.  After  a  hard  day's 
work  climbing  bluffs  and  threading  hazle  thickets,  and  a  ride  to  the 
camp  of  some  miles,  the  enjoyment  of  a  hearty  supper  and  evening's 
rest  can  hardly  be  appreciated  by  one  who  has  not  experienced  its 
delights  in  the  camp  itself.  Gathered  around  the  camp  chest,  which 
served  the  purpose  of  table,  seated  on  boxes,  k^s,  reversed  jugs,  or 
any  thing  else  that  came  to  hand,  little  ceremony  was  used  in  helping 
each  man  himself  to  what  he  wanted. 

As  may  be  supposed,  all  the  forms  of  politeness  were  sunuaarily. 
dispensed  with,  while,  at  the  same  time,  perfect  good  humor  was  main* 
tained,for  a  man  oould  commit  no  greater  folly  than  to  lose  his  temper 
in  such  a  case,  as  he  invariably  brought  the  whole  battery  of  small  arms 
against  himself  by  such  a  course.  The  only  resource  was  to  wait 
patiently  till  an  opportunity  presented  itself  for  his  revenge,  whidi  was 
generally  not  long  in  coming,  when  he  was  fiiUy  seconded  by  his  late 


TABm  AROUITD  TlOfi  OAMP  FIAB.  133 

tonn«itors.    Supper  ended,  the  ^^cut  and  dried"  was  passed  around 
and  nerer  refused,  as  clouds  of  smoke  soon  testified 

Conyersation  soon  became  brisk  under  the  infhienoe  of  the  weed, 
and  the  good  feeling  inspired  by  the  hearty  sup)per,  and  various  and 
marrellous  adventures  were  related,  and  as  most  of  the  party  were  old 
campaigners,  they  were  neither  few  nor  &r  between.  Stories  of  actual 
experience  in  the  pine  woods  oi  Maine,  the  Black  Swamp  of  Ohio, 
**  fever  ml^,"  "•  Egypt"  in  southern  Illinois,  the  land  of ''  High  winds  " 
that  bounds  Lake  Michigan  on  the  West,  FloridA,  Texas,  all  came  in 
for  f^  share.  The  party  mostly  belonged  to  that  nomadic  class  of  men 
who  are  the  pioneers  of  all  our  railroad  projects,  men  who  pierce  the 
wilderness  and  explore  the  solitudes  of  the  prairies  in  advance  of  civil* 
iutaon,  regardless  of  toil,  privation  and  hardships,  of  which  those  who 
ride  at  theit  ease  in  after  days  over  the  finished  railroad,  have  litde 
appredation.  Like  the  mariner  up<Hi  the  wide  ocean,  they  follow 
tiie  course  pointed  out  by  the  unerring  needle,  through  pathless  wilds, 
and  over  br^ad  prairies ;  binding  the  wQdemess  to  civilization  by  the 
fhttl  links  of  the  surveyor's  chain,  and  loving  a  profession  honored. by 
die  Father  of  his  Country  above  the  comforts  and  luxuries- of  civilised 
lifik 

Such  men  as  these  must  necessarily  meet  with  strange  and  chequered 
experiences,  the  recital  of  which,  by  the  camp  fire,  mingled  with  a 
spioe  of  the  romantic,  or  such  quaint  ficti(»is  and  embellishments  as 
Boggemt  themselves  to  the  relator,  excite  ofien  a  thrilling  interest  The 
young  beginners  listen  with  open  mouths  to  the  tales  of  some  old 
campaigner,  detailing  dangers  past,  long  mardies  performed  with 
incredibly  loads,  short  allowance  of  food,  escapes  firom  fiunine,  wild 
beasts  and  serpents.  These  ^*  yams  "  are  always  retailed  to  finends  at 
home,  by  the  youngsters,  the  relator  himself  being  the  hero  of  the  tale, 
to  the  great  admiration  of  wondering  mammas  and  sympathizing  risters. 

And  then  again  the  conversation  would  turn  upon  home  and  fiiends 
fiir  away,  and  the  many  loved  assodations  of  childhood,  or  the  merits 
of  certain  fiiir  friends  who  occupy  a  prominent  place  in  the  recollec- 
tions of  each  individual,  and  which  particular  lady  he  feels  bound  to 
sapport,  in  defiance  of  all  opposition,  as  the  "  ne  plus  ultra ''  of  female 
lovelitt4ss  and  virtue.  Carpet  sacks  are  ransacked  for  the  ^  counter- 
teai  presentiments ''  of  these  fiur  ladies,  and  many  comparisons  insti- 
toted  and  remarks  elicited  as  each  is  successively  brought  under  inspec- 
tion. Of  course  no  agreement  on  the  subject  could  be  expected,  for 
Jerry,  the  Missohrian,  thought  the  daguerreotype  of  his  ^  Lorahamy,*^ 
which  had  cost  him  three  *^  bits  "  in  St  Louis,  and  h  which  his  Did- 
dnaa  appears  in  a  red  dress  and  (laming  turban;  much  preferable  to  die 


IM  BKETQHBS  OF  B0&D8B  1029. 

•  ■^■■^^■*^— i— ^"^^^^^^^W^^P^— ^i^— ■  ■■■■■■■■  ■  I      JM  M   ■■  ■  ■  »l^^  ■■   I    ■  I      — ^— ^^^■^^^^^^^^■^fc— ■1»^^pM^l^^ 

bright  eyed  Buckeye  girl,  or  the  dark  haired  iaYorite  of  the  '^  Old  Do* 
minion  "  boys.  Each  retired  from  the  contest  mc»:e  oonvinoed  of  tlia 
charms  of  his  i&vorite,  and  bestowing  upon  her  a  closer  place  in  his 
aSbctions  from  having  in  the  heat  of  argument^  attributed  to  her  so 
Viany  virtues  and  beauties  that  he  actually  convinced  himself  that  she 
was  the  paragon  he  represented.  A  young  engineer,  away  in||the  fiurthesi 
wilds  of  Minnesota,  brought  out  the  picture  of  tkie  idol  of  his  heart,  a 
beautiful  black  eyed  Wisconsin  girl,  *  whichjfas  it  passed  aroundi 
gratified  his  pride  by  the  remarks  it  elicited,  until  it  was  saluted  by  a 
bystander  with,  "  Hallo,  E—  S— ,  as  I  live !" 

He  had  recognized  an  old  acquaintance  and  joined  Vith 'his  friend  in 
her  praises.  Certainly,  if  these  fair]|damsels  knew  the  extent  of  thesa 
little  demonstrations,  they  might  be^ardoned  in  feeling*flattered,  for 
such  exhibitions  of  feeling  come  from  the  heart,  andfare  prompted  by 
no  desire  of  flattery  or  stimulations  of  gallantry. 

About  this  time  the  thousands  of  melcms  that  fiUed  the  cornfields 
^f  Iowa  were  ripe,  and  that  delicious  fruit  presented  itself  from  everj 
&rmyard  in  all  its  richness.  There  can  be  no]  more  grateful  sight, 
mpon  a  sultry  day  in  August,  to  a  man,  &tigued,  hungry,  and  tor* 
mented  with  thirst,  than  is  presented  by  a  watermelon  patch,  filled 
with  the  bounteous  crop  of  that  fruit,  which  an  Iowa  soil  inevitably 
yields.  The  farmers  generally  mix  the  seed  with  their  com,  at  the 
time  of  planting,  (as  formers  at  the  East  do  pumpkin^seeds),  and  ooa- 
sequontly  they  have  an  abundance  for  all,  with  plenty  lefi^to  rot  on  the 
ground. 

Even  the  form  of  asking  for  them  is  generally  dispensed  with,  he- 
eause  not  required  or  expected,  and  when  we  came  to  on^  a£  these 
&scinating  spots,  everything  was|dropped,  and'all  hands  disi^pearii^ 
among  the  tall  cornstalks,  soon  returned  with^a  load  which  was  thrown 
iqKm  the  ground  in  a  pile,  and  quickly  devoured. 

The  people  of  Iowa  are  as  yet  in  that  unsetUed^^state  which  is  com- 
mon in  all  new  countries.  Their  fiirms  are  for  the  most  part  enclosed 
^d  under  cultivation,  but  in  a  very  imperfect  manner,  and^there  is  no 
more  common  expression  in  the  mouth  of  a  NeW|[Englandj&rmer  vis- 
iting that  country,  than  such  as,  ^^  What  shifUessness,^'  ^^  what  waste." 
Thid  prudenti  hard-working  policy  of  the  Eastern  former  is"no  part  of 
their  system. 

The  soil  yields,  without  the  bestowal  of  much  labor,  crops  that  are 
amply  sufficient  for  all  the  wants  of  the  cultivator  and  his  fomily ;  and 
time  and  again  I  have  seen  whole  fields  ef  wheat,  oon,  or  oats  abanp 
doned  to  the  weather  and  not  even  harvested,  sometimes  for  wsnt  of 
help,  at  others  from  want  of  inclination. 


nATECA  IK  TBX  SOUTH  WEST.  186 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH  WEST. 


1ft  QtLBtait  HATVAWAT,  flQ.,  OW  LAFOBTI,  lA. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Helbna,  Arkaksab,  Oct.  185-. 

Dbar  R :  You  see  from  the  place  where  this  is  written,  I  have 

fiurly  set  out  on  my  contemplated  southern  tour,  and  it  is  with  pleas- 
nre  I  embrace  this  early  moment  to  commence  the  correspondence 
promised  you  when  last  we  met,  discussing  the  fare  of  "  mine  host**  of 
the  justly  famed  Astor. 

You  did  me  the  honor  to  appear  pleased  with  my  relation  of  adven- 
"tures  in  my  joumeyings  in  the  South,. and  requested  that  I  would,  as 
opportunity  offered,  let  you  know  of  my  whereabouts,  the  kind  of  peo- 
ple I  might  meet,  the  country  and  climate  through  which  I  might  pacn, 
and  should  any  adventures  befal  me,  to  give  them  to  you  by  way  of 
•  letters.  ^ 

I  have  started,  and  as  you  perceive,  I  have  not  foi^otten  tiie  promise 
I  then  made  you. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  one  of  those  beautifully  brilliant  da^s,  which 
are  so  common  near  the  borders  of  Lake  Michigan,  in  the  month  of 
October,  when  I  took  leave  of  my  friends  in  the  beautiful  city  of  l^— , 
and  in  a  few  moments  was  being  hurried  over  the  earth  with  the  speed 
of  tlie  rail  car.  But,  as  is  quite  frequent  by  tiiis  mode  of  conveyance, 
we  were  '^  detained,"  and  instead  of  reaching  Chicago  in  two  hours,  as 
tiie  bills  have  it,  we  were  fully  five  in  making  the  journey.  Owing  to 
the  lateness  of  the  hour,  and  the  crowded  state  of  travelers  then  in  the  - 
<nty,  I  was  compelled  to  spend  the  balance  of  the  night  on  a  80&  in  the 
parlor  of  one  of  the  fine  hotels  of  which  that  city  may  justly  be  proud. 

Again,  on  my  journey  to  St.  Louis,  I  was  detained,  miany  hours,  and 
thus  lost  the  opportunity  of  securing  a  state  room  on  the  boat,  in  which 
'  I  anticipated  descending  the  river  when  I  left  my  home,  she  having  left 
at  the  advertised  hour,  which  certainly  is  an  anomaly  in  the  history  of 
river  navigation.  But,  as  fortune  fevered  me,  by  which  I  procired 
passage  in  a  fine  boat,  with  but  few  hours  delay  in  that  thriving  city, 
I  had  mo  real  cause  for  regret,  as  I  improved  my  time  in  reading  tke 


136  TBATEIS  IN  THB  SOUTH  WSST. 

<^|        PMllPIl  II.  I  ■■  I^W^^—      ^■».»  III    11  !■        ■         ■     ■■  ■■     ■■"  i'^l    P         ■■■■■■■■—■I        <■■!!■■■  M  1^        M       11  I        ■^■^l— —  ■        l*^— MWM—^^fa^ 

many  matters  of  interest  presented  to  a  stranger  in  and  about  its  bor- 
ders. 

The  boat  was  well  found,  and  finely  officered,  and  the  company  in 
the  cabins  such  as  travel  at  this  season  of  the  year  on  this  river — some 
New  Orleans  people,  and  ^^  lone  river"  planters,  returning  from  nortb- 
em  summer  rambles;  some  invalids  seeking  the  waifm  and  genial 
skies  of  the  South,  in  pursuit  of  health,  with  here  and  there  an  adven- 
turer seeking  employment,  no  matter  what,  so  that  he  could  ^put 
money  in  his  purse,"  with  a  few  of  that  class  of  ubiquitous  people  who 
are  to  be  found  wherever  a  "  penny  is  to  be  turned"  in  a  small  way, 
by  way  of  notions  and  other  wares,  yclept  Yankees ;  with  many  of 
those  who  usually  occupy  the  front  part  of  the  cabin  on  all  western 
rivers,  engaged  in  smoking,  spitting,  drinking  and  betting ! ! 

We  were  much  longer  in  making  Cairo,  which  place,  as  you  are  aware, 
is  at  the  confluence  of  the  Ohio  with  the  '^  father  of  waters,"  than  is 
usual.  The  river  was  low,  and  many  a  sand  bar  held  us  fast,  till  by 
means  of  the  shins  and  windlass,  and  appliance  of  steam,  the  boat  was 
literally  lifted  over  them.  These  operations  are  quite  effective,  but 
occupy  much  time,  and  unless  a  person  is  well  stocked  with  that  Ac- 
uity of  which  Job  is  said  to  have  been  well  supplied,  he  would  be 
annoyed  beyond  endurance.  You  have  never  experienced  the  delays 
always  attendant  on  the  navigation  of  western  rivers,  at  most  seasons 
of  the  year.  You,  when  you  wish  to  go  to  any  point  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  your  quiet  city,  can  calculate  with  much  certainty  on  the  hour 
of  arrival.  Not  so  on  these  waters.  So  you  cannot  appreciate  our 
situation.  Our  delays,  by  reason  of  the  many  bars  on  which  we  ground- 
ed, brought  most  vividly  to  mind  the  scenes  of  the  year  before,  when 
I  undertook  to  pass  the  same  ground,  when,  as  you  will  recollect,  I 
was  some  two  weeks  in  making  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  from  St.  Louis. 

As  it  was  my  intention  to  leave  the  boat  at  Memphis,  1  sought  no 
acquaintance  with'  the  passengers,  as  I  am  in  the  habit  of  doing,  on  long 
routes,  but  devoted  myself  to  my  books,  of  which  I  have  a  goodly  sup- 
ply, and  my  pen,  with  which  I  make  full  notes  of  all  passing  events ; 
with  the  hope  that  the  dear  ones  at  home  may  •n  my  return,  take 
some  pleasure  in  perusing.  The  city  of  Cairo,  of  which  I  have  made 
mention,  is  the  scene  of  several  bold  efforts  of  ambitious  men,  to  found 
a  large  city.  Its  position  is  such  that  it  must,. in  the  settlement  of  the 
valley  in  which  it  is  situated,  command  a  large  and  very  extensive 
trade,  unless  its  low  position  prevents.  The  point  of  land  between  the 
two  rivers  on  which  it  is  laid  out,  is  low,  and  subject  to  overflows 
from  both  rivers  in  high  stages  of  water.  The  side  on  the  Mississippi 
is  lowest ;  in  front  a  large  sand  bar  stretches  §ar  into  that  stream,  rea- 


OAIBO,  WHAT  IT  18^  AND  18  TO  BE.  131 

■         ■  •  '        =;? 

denng  its  apprpadi  from  that  quarter  quite  out  of  the  question.    On 

Uie  Ohio  side,  the  bank  is  high,  and  the  binding  good  for  the  lajrgeat 

class  boats  at  almost  any  stage  of  the  water. 

Several  companies  in  years  past,  have  undertaken,  by  means  of  lev- 
ees, to  prepare  the  plat  for  building,  but  for  want  of  sufficient  means,, 
or  other  causes,  all  fiuled,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the  spot  was  doom- 
ed to  afibrd  habitation  for  the  snake,  the  frog,  and  kindred  '^  varmintt'^ 
till  the  Illinois  Central  Railroad  took  hold  of  it,  when,  as  by  magic, 
die  thing  moves  forward,  and  ere  long  the  dream  of  the  enthusiast  will 
be  iully  realized.  Already  you  hear  the  sound  of  the  hammer  and 
saw,  in  the  erection  of  habitations  and  stores,  and  mine  host  of  a  threjD 
story  hotel,  dispenses  the  good  things  of  earth  to  hungry  crowds,  at 
the  rate  of  two  dollars  per  day. 

We  remiuned  at  this  point  a  l<xig  time.  Our  captain  was  anxious 
to  fill  up  his  boat  before  proceeding  below,  and  so  waited  the  arrival 
of  small  boats  on  the  Ohio.  This  delay  was  of  more  than  twen^-four 
hours  duration — a  great  delay  you  would  say — ^but  be*  patient  You 
are  not  on  a  river  boat,  where  such  a  thing  as  punctuality  is  not  known 
in  any  thing  except  the  regularity  of  the  meals,  and  attendance  at  the 
bar. 

This  detention  afforded  me  ample  opportunity  to  examine  the  plan 
of  the  city,  and  learn  the  purposes  of  the  buildings.  In  company  with 
some  three  or  four  passengers,  I  went  round  the  city  on  the  levee 
that  has  been  thrown  up,  of  some  three  and  a  half  miles  in  drcumfer- 
enoe,  built  by  a  company  some  years  ago,  and  which  is  now  quite  over- 
grown with  rank  weeds  and  bushes.  The  Ulinois  Central  Railroad 
oomes  in  on  the  East  side,  and  runs  in  front  of  the  city  on  the  Ohio 
aide,  on  a  high  embankment.  Large  iron  pipes  of  some  eighteen 
indies  caliber,  are  placed  in  this  embankment,  on  a  level  with  the  sur- 
fiu)e  within,  which  are  calculated  to  drain  off  the  water  which  may  fidl 
in  the  inclosure,  or  naturally  percolate  through  the  embankment 
TUs  of  course  can  only  be  available  when  the  water  of  the  river  is 
lower  than  the  surface  within.  When  the  water  is  above  that  level 
the  company  expect  to  free  the  city  from  water  which  may  accumu- 
late there,  by  means  of  steam  pumps  of  great  capacity.  Should  these 
means  prove  effective,  and  the  ground  made  suitable  for  building  pur- 
poses, the  prc^ess  of  the  place  must  be  rapid.  The  ftct  of  its  posi- 
tion, the  extensive  railroad  terminating  there,  the  great. uncertainty  of 
river  navigation  above  this  point  on  either  side,  from  low  water  or  ice, 
and  that  the  river  b  always  navigable  below  this  point  for  the  largest 
dass  of  boats,  insures  its  progress,  and  it  must,  in  a  few  years,  greatly 
interfere  with  the  business  of  St  Louis. 


IBS  TRAYBLS  IN  THE  SOUTH  WEST. 

■                             I          ■  ■              ■                 I  I      I   ■  ■    ■           I              »                   ■  I  1     ■  »         I         ^-■^-^^— .^-— ^^^-^^— ^^»^^^M 

^  ■  -■■-■- «     .  I       I        ■  .     ■      ■  .  ■ 

'Our  captain,  having  obtidniad  all  the  freight  and  pass^igers  he  oould 
%ope  to  witjiin  any  retucncAle  time,  gave  orders  to  get  up  steam ;  and 
soon  the  James  Robb  was  rounding  out  from  the  wharf  boat,  into  the 
4dear  water  of  theOhiOj  the  i^rkling  briiliancy  of  which  was  quickly 
loBt  in  the  turbid  wave  of  its  confluent. 

At  Memphis  I  spent  a  day,  where  I  met  an  old  acquaintance  who 
was  formerly  a  practitioner  in  the  "profession,"  but  now  engaged  in 
^  railroading,"  having  a  heavy  contract  on  a  road  from  that  place  to 
Little  Bock.  Like  most  men  who  abandon  a  legitimate  and  certain 
business  for  one  of  an  untried,  and  really  uncertain  eharactofy  he  was 
flanguine  of  success ;  and  although  others  h^ve  failed,  yet  some  hare 
miooeeded ;  he  was  well  assured  that  something  would  turn  up  in  his 
case,  which  would  lead  to  fortune.  So  great  were  his  expectations, 
that  I  suppose  a  very  large  sum  would  have  been  denoanded  for  an 
interest  in  his  contract.    May  his  expectations  be  realized,  is  my  wiafa. 

Memphis  is  situate  on  a  high  bluii^  on  the  Tennessee  side  of  A» 
river,  and  generally  is  well  built.  Some  four  railroads  coming  into 
town  from  different  directions,  are  under  contract,  and  cars  beginning 
to  run.    It  is  an  improving  dty  of  some  20,000  inhabitants. 

Like  most  Government  operations,  the  navy  yard  at  this  place  has 
proved  an  expensive  affair,  and  of  but  little  or  no  value.  Who  but  a 
mad  man  would  think  of  ouilding  a  ship  at  a  point  where  there  is 
barely  aufiicient  water  to  float  a  boat,  simply  because  timber  and  ma- 
terial for  cordage  were  handy  1  It  has  cost  millions  of  money,  and 
has  not  been  of  a  farthing's  value  to  the  Government  Finding  that 
no  use  of  the  great  outlay  could  be  made,  in  the  way  designed,  or  held 
out  by  the  originators  of  the  scheme,  they  have  endeavored  to  turn  it 
to  some  account  by  the  introduction  of  extensive  machinery  for  ma- 
rking cordage ;  and  after  years  of  delay  in  getting  matters  into  opera- 
tion, it  has  been  found  that  every  pound  of  rope  manuflictured,  costs 
some  twenty  per  cent  more  than  the  same  article  can  be  purchased  for 
m  the  neighborhood,  made  by  private  enterprise.  But,  then,  what 
matter*?  It  has  afforded  opportunity  for  certain  politicians  to  make 
capital  in  their  way,  and  secure  fat  places  for  epauletted  dignitaries  of 
liie  American  army. 

I  was  much  disappointed  in  not  meeting  at  this  place  a  young  gen- 
tleman and  his  wife,  whose  acquaintance  I  made  in  the  South  last  year, 
and  in  whose  company  I  returned  from  Galveston  to  Memphis.  We 
passed  through  many  trying  scenes  together,  and,  as  not  unfrequently 
happens,  became  very  much  attached.  Mr.  S —  was  a  young  man  of 
fine  appearance  and  unusually  well  read  in  his  profession — a  KentudE- 
ian  by  birth  and  education,  with  much  of  the  high-toned  chivalry  fbr 


DBHIH  OK  TES  BOAT.  ISI 

wfaieli  the  soos  of  the  ^  blood j  groustd'*  are  so  i^idelj  known.  Hie 
&ther  of  Mrs.  S. — ,  Mr.  W — ,  a  planter  of  Kentucky,  had  settled  on 
the  Qbolo,  Texas,  where  the  road  Arom  to  San  Antonio 

<jros9es  tMs  stream,  the  session  preceding  the  one  we  met,  when  the 
parties  were  married,  and,  at  the  time  referred  to,  were  on  their  return 
to  Kentucky,  it  being  their  wedding  trip.  I  learned  that  they  had 
subsequently  settled  in  this  city,  and  was  quite  anxious  to  renew  my 
aequaintanee. 

We  were  on  lAie  same  ship  from  Indianola  to  New  Orleans,  and 
^m  congeniality  of  taste  and  thought  had  formed  a  mutually  pleas- 
ing acquaintance.  When  we  arrived  at  New  Orleans,  the  yellow  fever 
WBs  raging  to  a  great  d^ree,  some  one  hundred  and  ninety  deaths  hav- 
Hig  occurred  the  day  before.  We  were  all  disposed  to  remain  in  the 
infected  city  but  as  short  a  period  as  possible,  and  were  led  to  take 
ihe  first  boat  up  the  river,  without  regard  to  her  comfortable  accom- 
modataons.  The  first  thus  presented  proved  to  be  the  "  Brown,**  a 
freight  boat,  but  with  cabin  accommodations  better  than  usual  on  this 
eiflfls  of  boats.  But  the  great  rush  of  passengers  made  our  quarters 
^rery  unoomfbrtable.  What  state-rooms  there  were  the  ladies  took 
possession  of,  and  all  gentlemen,  no  matter  whether  they  had  wives  in 
company  or  not,  were  compelled  to  seek  the  best  places  that  could  be 
Ibund  for  sleeping.  The  boat  fjimished  a  few  cots,  for  which  the  stew- 
ard, for  hiding  and  reserving  till  night,  received  a  handsome  fee  for 
eadt  The  cabin  floor  was  each  night  filled  with  sleepers,  made  very 
tmcomfbrtable  from  dose  proximity  to  all  sorts  of  unpleasant  charac- 
ters, to  say  nothing  of  roaches  and  other  creeping  things,  in  a  hot  cli- 
mate, and  rendered  more  so  from  the  heat  of  the  boilers,  which  were 
immediately  beneath.  I  was  fortunate  to  secure  a  place  on  the  dining 
table  some  two  or  three  nights,  and  once  or  twice  a  cot  by  speaking  to 
the  steward  at  an  early  hour  im^he  morning. 

The  next  morning,  afler  leaving  the  city,  it  was  rumored  that  we 
had  a  case  of  yellow  fever  on  board ;  which  rumor  was  fully  confirm- 
•d  on  the  second  day  by  the  death  of  the  party—the  captain  of  the 
steamboat  Grand  Turk,  who  had  taken  passage  with  us,  fer  Bt.  Louis. 
Tins  occurrence  filled  ns  with  alarm  and  apprehension,  and  miich  fore- 
boding of  what  the  future  would  develop.  The  fever  continued  to 
apread  among  the  deck  passengers,  of  whom  we  had  several  hundred, 
end  deaths  ocourred  every  day  till  we  reached  the  quaranHne,  a  few 
ndieB  below  the  city  of  destination.  It  was  our  custom  to  stop  eadi 
night  and  bury  those  on  the  bank  of  the  river  who  had  died  in  the 
^X)nr6e  of  the  day.  At  the  quarantine  there  were  taken  ashore  some 
^▼e  persons,  either  dead- or  dying  with  this  dreadful  disease,  but  none 


140  .TBAYBLS  TS  THE  SOUTH  WBST. 

from  the  cabin.  Several  cases  had  occurred  there,  but  by  good  attcEv- 
tion  from  fellow  passengers  they  had  been  saved. 

When  the  health  officer  came  on  board,  one  poor  fellow,  who  had 
been  confined  to  his  birth  several  days,  but  who  was  getting  better, 
looked  upon  the  quarantine  with,  perfect  horror,  and  begged  of  the 
passengers  not  to  allow  him  to  be  taken  off  at  this  place.  In  order  to 
save  him,  a  ruse  was  resorted  to  with  the  view  of  deceiving  the  offi- 
cer. He  was  dressed  and  placed  between  a  couple  of  barrels  on  the 
deck,  just  in  front  of  the  cabin,  a  slouched  hat  was  pulled  over  his 
head  and  face,  so  that  when  the  dapper  little  M.  D.  made  his  appear- 
ance and  dashed  through  the  boat,  with  the  haste  of  a  person  who  sup- 
posed he  was  pursued  by  iiends,  it  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  he 
did  not  detect  the  deception.  The  barrels  on  each  side  supported  the 
invalid  in  a  sitting  posture,  and  enabled  him  to  escape  unnoticed*  He 
was  brought  to  St.  Louis  in  safety,  where  he  recovered  from  the  at- 
tack. 

This  was  a  memorable  passage.  Besides  the  number  lost  by  fever, 
two  died  from  snuill  pox,  and  one,  a  young  man,  was  lost  overboard 
in  the  night,  to  say  nothing  about  a  serious  fight  between  a  deck  hand 
and  the  mate,  in  which  tile  latter  was  badly  stabbed,  and  left  on  the 
river  bank.  A  cloud  of  gloomy  sadness  rested  upon  every  counte- 
nance, and  had  it  not  been  for  extraordinary  effoi:ts  on  the  part  <^  a 
few  passengers,  in  keeping  all  parties  as  cheerful  as  possible,  it  is 
thought  the  number  of  deaths  would  have  been  fearfully  increased* 
Tou  can  well  imagine,  that  a  passage,  which  was  extended  to  about 
double  the  length  usual  on  ascending  the  river,  and  filled  with  so  much 
that  was  horrifying,  was  calculated  to  render  the  situation  of  a  young 
and  delicate  bride,  reared  with  the  refinement  to  be  found  in  the  best 
&milies  in  the  State  of  her  birth— one  of  the  most  unpleasant  and 
trying  character.  ^ 

I  learned  from  parties  here,  that  having  tasted  the  genial  sweets  of 
a  former  residence  in  the  valley  of  the  Qbolo,  and  the  great  comfort 
of  being  near  her  mother,  had  induced  Mr.  S~  to  emigrate  to  Texas. 

The  Memphis  and  New  Orleans  packet  is  among  the  few  boats  that 
can  be  commended  to  travelers — properly  furnished  in  all  regards  and 
exceedingly  well  managed.  I  took  passage  for  this  place,  and  found 
the  usual  number  of  passengers — ^more  fiimilies,  however,  than  at 
other  seasons  of  the  year,  returning  to  their  winter  homes,  after  hav- 
ing spent  the  summer  in  the  more  northern  States.  Many  children 
were  among  them,  which  at  times  rendered  the  ladies*  cabin  quite  mu- 
sical with  their  difficulties  in  various  ways.  Black  nurses  were  mov- 
ing hither  aiki  thither  on  errands  of  duty,  creating  an  enlivening  scene. 


VOAKMAM  TO  AU)BRBROOE.  •  141 


PILGRIMAGE  TO  ALDERBROOK. 


BT  0.  D.  lAJIOALL,     HQ.,  Off  OLDWATIB. 


**  Oome  in  the  spring-time  to  Alderbrookf  dear  friend  of  mlnct  whatever  name  thou  beareiti 
eome  when  the  nndt  birds  are  out,  careering,  itark  mad  with  Joyoumew  on  their  giddy  wingf.**-^ 
Fanny  I^uter, 

It  was  January^  1857.  The  cold  wind,  as  it  swept  over  and  among 
the  hills,  blew  the  drifting  snow  right  in  our  faces.  Closer  around  us 
the  robes  were  drawn,  to  keep  out  the  cold,  which  to  an  uninitiated 
Wolverine  was  the  realization  of  an  imported  Greenland.  There  was 
a  hill  to  our  right,  and  a  smaller  one  on  the  lefl,  and  we  were  speeding 
swiftly  over  the  snow,  down  a  little  valley,  which  I  judged  might  be 
passably  pleasant  in  the  summer  time,  but  one  could  not  be  very  ideal 
about  scenery,  when  the  thermometer  was  twenty  degrees  below  zero. 
Oar  horse  was  of  that  proud  race  to  which  Bucephalous  belonged,  but 
differing  somewhat  from  his  illustrious  predecessor  in  spirit  and  speed, 
it  required  the  united  inducements  of  corporeal  punishment  and  pros- 
pect of  oats  ahead,  to  prevent  our  actual  freezing.  We  had  been  out 
about  three  miles  from  Morrisville,  N.  Y.,  to  Leeville,  and  were  now 
returning  by  a  different  route.  My  companion  had  interested  me  in 
pointing  out  the  interesting  places ;  but  to  do  my  best,  J  could  see  no 
particular  beauty  in  rugged  hills  covered  with  snow  and  ice,  whose 
trees,  straight  and  long,  were  shaking  their  shriveled  snow  covered 
limbs  like  so  many  stationary  ghosts  trembling  with  western  agi^s. 

The  broad  prairie,  beautiful  with  its  fiirms  and  flowers ;  the  grand 
old  forests,  sublime  in  their  solitude,  ever  had  the  best  charms  for  me. 
"  But,"  insisted  my  companion,  "  they  are  beautiful  in  the  summer 
time.  Especially  this  valley  we  are  passing  through,  which  is  Alder- 
brook." 

"  Alderbrook !" 

«  Yes." 

**  Not  Fanny  Forrester's  Alderbrook  1" 

'' The  8am&— there  is  '  Underhill  Ckyttage.' " 
.  ^  Alderbrook !"    Back — ^way  back  in  li^e  past^  witii  lightning  speed 
went  memory,  on  her  golden  wings,  bringing  up  to  the  present  a  tbott- 


lia  .  PIIiORIMAaB  TO  AU>JUUBBOOK. 


% 


%  sand  sad  and  pleasant  associations,  mingled  with  my  own,  and  die  day 

dreams  of  the  writer  of  ^Alderbrook.'  Fannj  Forester !  How  I  had 
learned  to  love  that  name.  I  had  read  her  'Alderbrook,^  in  the  rainy 
days  of  spring-time,  when  youth's  visionary  imaginings  were  brightest, 
and  many  a  time  with  book  in  hand  I  had  thought,  read,  and  dreampt, 
as  with  a  kindred  spirit,  with  whom  to  commune  was  happiness. 
Fanny  Forester,  as  a  woman  and  writer,  had  been  my  &irorite.  As 
a  woman,  heroic,  self  sacrificing,  a  true  christian,  [whom  God  knows 
never  had  a  spark  of  hypocrisy]  and  true  woman,  devoted  to  her  &m- 
ily  and  the  suffering  cause  of  the  India  Mission,  she  was  without  parr 
allel — and  I  loved  her  with  that  love  which  we  bear  for  those  whose 
exalted  and  holy  character  seems  so  much  beyond  ourselves,  and  too 
pure  for  etfrth.  As  a  writer,  original,  true  to  nature  in  her  village 
sketches,  she  always  presented  us  beautiful  pictures ;  and  even  in  her 
sad  stories  there  ran  such  a  vein  of  good  natured  humor,  that  we  ware 
often  provoked  to  laughter  when  we  felt  more  like  crying.  At  the 
same  time,  she  threw,  with  a  deep  home  thrust,  a  lesson  to  our  hearta, 
which,  while  it  startled,  fixed  itself  upon  us  with  its  good  influenoee 
forever.  Ainong  American  female  writers,  her  ^Alderbrook'  staacb 
alone  like  a  beautiflil  temple  of  its  own  peeuliar  structure,  and  without 
a  superior.  Her  history,  sad,  yet  beautiful,  passed  hurriedly  befi»^e 
me,  first  of  her  early  life  in  **.  Underbill  Cottage,"  there  in  the  pleaa* 
ant  village  of  Morrisville*  a  short  distance  flrom  'Alderbrook,'  wheare 
she  wrote  occasionally  for  local  newspapers,  which  neither  increased 
her  &me  nor  fortune ;  where  she  taught  school  to  assist  in  supportiag 
her  &mily,  who  were  poor,  and  her  &ther,  a  carri^  of  the  mail  through 
Morrisville,  and  where  she  \vTote  her  rather  saucy  letter  to  N.  P.  Wil- 
lis, then  editor  of  the  N.  Y.  Mirror,  who  so  appreciated  her  writiii£p 
that  he  engaged  her  to  correspond  for  Ms  paper,  from  which  time  she 
rose  rapidly  into  public  notice  and  fiune.  Afterwards  her  *  Alder- 
brook'  sketches  are  published — ^then  she  becomes  the  wife  and  fellow 
missionary  of  the  devoted  Judsok.  She  goes  to  India,  labors  there 
until  health  fidls  her,  and  then  she  comes  back  to  her  native  land,  to 
lie  down  and  die  in  her  Other's  house,  and  her  sisters  and  mother's 
arms.  *  *  ♦ 

"  Com*  in  thfe  sprlng-Ume  to  Alderbrook,  friend  of  mine,*' 

*  Fanny'  had  siud  in  her  '  Underbill  Cottage,'  and  here  it  was  mid  win« 
ter.  Well,  I  felt  I  was  one  of  her  *•  dear  friends,'  even  If  I  had  uncon- 
sciously disobeyed  her  invitation.  Mine  was  a  pleasant  surprise, 
'  Alderbrook !'  At  the  mention  of  the  name  Buoephdons  came  almost 


UKBBBHIIiL  OOTTAaB.  149 

to  a  dead  halt  Hie  thermometer  [if  we  had  had  <»ie]  seemingly  rose 
twenty  degrees.  The  wind  blew  leas  sevjare ;  the  son  shone  brighter, 
and  I  could  almost  imagine  the  snow  off  the  valley  and  hill,  and  ths 
little  silvery  Alderbrook,  leaping  out  of  its  icy  fetters,  like  a  freed 
spirit,  and  go  bounding  along  Mrith  its  May  day  laughter,  and  could 
see  as  Fanny  Forester  had  of  Alderbrook  long  ago : — 


the  froh  green  wood, 


The  forest  fireUed  ftUeit 
Jbad  le*fy  domes  ahore  fliem  bent, 
Azid  toUtad*. 
So  eloquent! 
MooUnc  the  Taried  how  that  blent 
In  arts  moat  gorgeoiu  piles .** 

Before  us  was  '  Underbill  Cottage.^  It  is  now  no  longer  ^  Underbill,' 
for  the  highway  which  formerly  passed  above  the  house,  now  winds 
along  the  base  of  the  little  hill,  below.  The  cottage  is  small,  and  ooo* 
sists  of  a  story  and  half  upright^  with  a  wing  on  eidier  side.  As 
'  Fanny'  has  said,  ^^  The  house  is  very  low  in  front  (now  back)  and  has 
an  exceedingly  timid,  modest  bearing,  as  is  some  times  the  case  with 
houses.''  The  eglantine,  the  roses,  and  the  clematis,  which.^he  tells  us 
beautified  her  home,  are  no  longer  there.  The  house  wears  an  old 
look,  and  withal  tells  that  its  best  admirer  has  there  no  longer  her 
home.  It  is  now  far  from  being  what  she  said  it  once  was,  '^  with  its 
white  walls  and  nice  white  lattice  work,  looking  amid  the  budding 
vines,  all  folding  their  arms  about  it,  like  a  living  sleeper  under  the 
espedal  protection  ot  Dame  Nature."  It  stands  but  a  relic  of  its  for* 
mer  beauty — ^a  faded  shrine,  and  the  goddess  of  the  place  departed. 
The  little  brook  across  the  road  in  front  of  the  house  and  beyond  the 
little  meadow,  which  was,  which  'Fanny'  has  called  the  '^bright 
laugher,"  now  wears  in'  summer  and  winter,  the  same  sombre  sadness, 
^d,  like  its  former  admirer,  laughs  no  more,  for  men  more  practical 
than  ideal  have  been  there,  and  the  once  beautiful  streamlet  sleeps 
below  the  heavy  pond  which  lies  above  it,  and  its  music  is  hushed  for- 
ever. Ere  I  was  aware,  we  had  passed  the  cottage — through  the  val* 
ley,  and  were  again  in  the  streets  of  Morris  vLlle.  There,  in  this  village, 
stands  the  house  where  she  and  her  family  were  living  when  she  first 
came  into  public  notice.  The  house  is  one  and  a  half  stories  high, 
fT0^ting  the  street,  now  painted  a  dark  slate  color.  In  front  stands  a 
beautiflil  raw  of  young  pine  trees,  which  I  was  told  Fanny  herself 
assisted  in  planting.  They  look  as  pure  and  beautiful  as  her  own 
bright  &me,  and  green  as  her  memory  is  in  our  hearts.  Both  herself 
and  her  father's  family  are  here  spoken  of  in  the  highest  terms  of  res- 1 
pect  and  friendship  by  their  former  acquaintances.  It  appears  that 
none  knew  Fanny  Forester,  but  to  love  hej. 


144  PILGI^lkAGB  TO  ALDBRBROOK. 

It  is  only  a  few  steps  from  tiiis  former  home  of  hers  to  where  is  now 
the  office  of  .the  *'  Madison  County  Observer,'*  the  lime-honored  and 
lineal  descendant  of  the  "Alderbrook  Sun,**  which  she  so  fiusetiously 
said  ''rose  of  a  Wednesday  morning."  It  is  a  living  curiosity,  and 
had  circumstances  admitted,  I  should  have  been  happy  to  have  seen 
the  editor  who  succeeds  in  maintaining  a  journal  of  the  democratic 
fiuth  in  a  republican  town,  village  and  county.  Surely  he  must  be  a 
remarkable  man  and  well  deserving  the  commendation  of  his  party. 
But  Fanny  Forester  was  no  politician,  and  so  we  are  digressing.  The 
village  is  not  now  as  when  Fanny  wrote.  Instead  of  two  churches, 
there  are  three ;  a  large  and  beautiful  hotel  on  the  "  Hill,''  stores, 
shops  and  offices  without  number,  and  here  and  there  dwellings  wiuch 
would  be  an  ornament  to  the  city.  Hiough  it  is  not  exactly  as  Fan- 
ny's "Alderbrook,"  yet  the  halo  of  romantic  beauty  thrown  over  it  by 
her  village  sketches,  renders  it  an  attractive  and  interesting  place  for 
all  her  readers. 

The  next  day,  a  very  pleasant  ride  ovei*  hills,  through  valleys,  past 
ridi  "  hop  farms,"  over  canals  and  streamlets,  for  about  seven  miles, 
brought  us  into  the  beautiful  and  classical  village  of  Ilarpilton,  whither 
we  had  c6me  on  a  visit  to  Mr.  and  Miss  Chubuck,  the  father  and  sister 
of  Fanny  Forester.  They  were  living  here  in  a  beautiful  residence, 
the  gifl  of  the  e^ster  and  daughter.  We  found  Mr.  Chubuck  at  home, 
who  gave  us  a  very  kind  reception.  We  were  soon  joined  by  Miss 
Chubuck,  to  whose  sociable  and  agreeable  attentions  we  were  indebted 
for  our  very  interesting  visit  Mr.  Chubuck  is  quite  an  old  man, 
somewhat  bent  with  age  and  feebleness.  His  wife,  we  were  told,  had 
died  some  two  years  ago.  She  was  apparently  the  &vorite  with  Fan- 
ny, for  in  her  writings  I  knew  not  that  she  ever  spoke  of  else  but  her 
mother.  He  is  of  medium  stature,  and  bears  a  slight  resemblance  tor 
"  Fanny."  There  is  a  resemblance  between  Miss  Chubuck  and  Mrs. 
Judson,  more  than  we  usually  note  between  sisters.  She  was  very 
kind  and  ready  to  interest  us,  which  gave  additional  pleasure  to  our 
visit.  This  was  the  house  to  which  Mrs.  Judson  returned  from  India 
— ^the  home  in  which  she  had  died.  Her  wish  had  been  granted,  which 
she  had  made  in  her  "  Little  Molly  White :"  "  Oh,  let  me  die  m  the 
country  where  I  shall  not  fall  like  a  single  leaf  in  the  forest,  unheeded, 
♦  ♦  *  Bury  me  in  the  country  amid  the  prayers  of  the  good  and 
tears  of  the  loving.    *    *    * 

*Then  If  aronndmy  place  of  d«e|», 
The  friends  I  loye  shoiild  eome  to  weep* 
They  might  not  haato  to  go.' " 


agttjtne  of  Cr»fteL 


VOL.  I.]  lAPRIL,  1867.  fNO.  ^ 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


n  9MV.  vao,  MvriaLDt  d.  d. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

Place  de  ia  Qmcorde^  (Jhampa  Elyseea^  Arc  de  Triomphe  deV£Hoik^  TempkdeS^ 

manUCj  BuonaparU^s  Tbmb. 

Hie  BtAtue  of  Liberty  was  removed ;  and  in  1800  it  assumed  the 
mune  of  "  Place  de  la  Concorde/'  Different  projeoto  were  entertained 
for  erecting  another  statue,  which  werefnistrated  by  revolutions,  until, 
finally,  the  renowned  relict  of  ancient  Egypt,  one  of  the  two  monolith 
obelisks  that  stood  in  front  of  the  great  temple  of  Thebes,  the  mod- 
em Luxor,  at  great  expense,  and  to  the  great  honor  of  the  science  and 
skill  of  savants  and  workmen  who  removed  it  whence  for  centuries  it 
had  stood,  it  was  successfully  reared  where  it  now  stands.  This  mag- 
nificent stone,  which  bears  on  three  sides  hieroglyphioal  memorials  of 
the  grandeur  of  Sesostris,  one  of  the  proudest  of  ancient  Egyptian 
kings,  is  of  sienite  granite,  seventy -two  feet  three  inches  high, 
seven  feet  six  inches  at  its  base,  and  five  feet  four  inches  at  the  top, 
weighing,  as  computed,  some  five  hundred  thousand  pounds,  or  two 
hundred  and  fifly  tons.  Its  erection  took  place  during  the  reign  of 
Louis  Phillippe,  on  the  25th  of  October,  1836,  as  the  inscription  on 
the  pedestal  records.  The  plinth  on  which  it  stands  is  a  block  of  grim- 
ite,  fifteen  feet  long  by  nine  feet  square  at  the  bottom,  and  eight  at  the 
top.  The  pedestal  on  which  it  rests  is  composed  of  five  blocks  of 
granite,  each  twelve  feet  by  five  and  three  feet ;  and  the  height  of  it 
and  plinth  together  is  twenty-seven  feet,  making  the  whole  height  of 
the  column  a  few  inches  less  than  one  hundred  feet.  On  one  of  the 
fiices  of  the  pedestal,  are  engraven,  gilt  sections  of  the  machinery  'Used 
at  Luxor  in  removing  and  embarking  the  obelisk,  and  on  another  those 
employed  in  Paris  for  its  re-erecdon,  the  entire  exp^ise  of  which  is 
«aid  to  havo  been  2,000,000  of  francs. 


k^ 


IM  MOTRS  Of  FOKSIQN  TBAVEL 

Tffo  bnutifiil  fbimtaina  near  it,  play  from  circular  bamns  fifty  feet 
in  diameter,  and  give  a  pleaung  ^ect  to  the  aooie.  The  grounds  art 
not  yet  completed ;  but  wti«i  the  gardens  shall  have  be«n  laid  out,  and 
the  trees  and  shrubbery  arranged,  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  will  ^rm 
a  beautilul  connection  between  the  Tuilleries  and  the  Champs  Elysees. 
But  all  its  beauty  and  splendor,  and  highly  ornamented  ever-flowing 
fi)unt«us,  can  never  ol>lilerate  the  remembrance  of  the  borrid  and  tn- 
gic  scenes  of  blood  and  murder  perpetrated  here.  Twelve  hundred 
persons  trampled  to  death  in  a  panic  produced  during  1^  rejoidnga 
held  in  honor  of  the  marriage  of  Louis  XVI! — his  execution  by  tho 
guillotine! — and,  during  nearly  two  years  of  reign  of  terror,  from  tlte 
murder  of  Charlotte  Cordery,  Briasot  and  bis  colleagues,  Marie  An- 
toinette, and  more  than  two  thousand  eight  hundred  peraons  immolated 
before  the  statue  of  liiberty ! 

The  Champs  Elysees  stretch  to  the  northwest  from  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde,  and  afford  one  of  the  tinest  and  most  extensive  promenades 
of  which  any  city  con  boast.  They  are  so  well  arranged,  that  it  can  he 
turned,  if  Parisian  gt^ety  requires  it,  into  one  vast  ball-room,  and  be 
illuminated  like  the  day  itaelt.  From  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  to  the 
Barriere  de  I'Etoile,  the  length  is  about  one  mile  and  a  quarter.  Here, 
on  Sundays  particularly,  the  population  of  Paris  becomes  (Used — ahop- 
keepera,  workmen,  operatives,  professional  men,  veiret  aristocracy, 
cashmere  shawls,  humble  merinos,  coarse  tartans,  youth,  gaiety,  and 
beauty,  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  meet  in  close  proximity,  and  jostle 
each  other.  In  the  groves  are  stalls  for  the  sale  of  toys  and  ginger- 
bread, ju^lers,  tumblers,  squeaking  punches,  slid  all  manner  of  attrao- 
tlona  for  the  juvenile  race.  Parties  of  all  classes  occupy  chaiie,  hired 
for  two  sous,  or  the  wooden  benches  placed  at  intervals  along  the  sides 
of  the  avenue ;  splendid  coaches  roll  past  in  grand  procession  along 
the  road ;  cafe  houses,  scattered  among  the  trees,  offer  entertainment ; 
•ad  various  sorts  of  public  amusements  invite  the  loitering  crowds. 
Here  all  the  public  fetes  are  held ;  snd  here  a  stranger  finds  abundant 
.opportunity  to  see  and  study  the  gaieties,  courtesies,  peculiarities,  and 
sotuai  bilsritaea,  of  the  ever  tickle,  noisy,  chattering,  and  laughter-loving 
Parisian  population. 

On  the  elevated  ground,  which  terminates  toward  the  northwest  of 
the  Champs  Elysees,  is  to  be  seen  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  de  I'Etoila. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  and  attractive  of  all  the  monuments 
of  Paris.  Hie  idea  of  it  originated  with  Napoleon ;  its  erection  was 
decreed  in  1806,  but  it  was  not  oompleted  till  1B3S.  It  oonaiata  of  a 
laige  oenbvl  aroh,  ninety  feet  high  and  forty-five  feet  wide,  over  i^ich 
■trelK^as  an  imposing  entablature  snd  attio.     A  transverse  areh  fifty- 


TBIUKPHAL  ARCH.  lit 


seren  feet  high  and  twenty-five  feet  wide,  croeses  it,  dividing  the  inte- 
rior part  of  the  pile  into  four  piers.  The  height  of  the  entire  struc- 
tore  is  one  hundred  and  fifiy-two  feet,  its  breadth  one  hundred  and 
thirty*seyen,  and  width  sixty-eight.  Its  entire  cost  is  put  at  10,432,- 
000  firancs.  The  fii^ades  are  toward  the  Champs  Elysees  and  Neuilly, 
and  each  pier,  of  its  principal  fronts,  is  ornamented  with  a  projecting 
pedestal,  on  which  appear,  groups  of  sculptured  figures,  wrought  on 
the  surface  of  the  monument.  The  frieze  and  the  cornice  above  are 
both  ornamented  with  sculpture — ^the  latter  at  intervals  with  project- 
ing lions'  heads.  Compartments,  filled  with  alto-relievo,  occupy  the 
spaces  between  the  cornice  and  frieze  of  the  general  entablature.  The 
attic,  also,^  crowned  with  a  cornice  and  plinth,  and  ornamented  with 
masks,  is  divided  by  pilasters  into  different  compartments ;  on  each 
pilaster  is  sculptured  a  laureled  sword,  and  in  each  compartment  a  cir- 
cular shield  bearing  the  name  of  some  brilliant  victory. 

The  vaults  of  the  arches  are  cut  into  apartments,  containing  roses, 
and  the  spandrels  adorned  with  colossal  idlegorical  figures.  On  the 
inner  side  of  the  piers  are  inscribed  the  names  of  victories,  and  under 
the  transversal  arches  those  of  generals.  The  sculpture  is  very  grand 
and  impressive.  It  will  well  repay  hours  of  careful  study.  By  the 
aid  of  published  descriptions,  I  gave  them  a  thorough  examination. 
The  northern  pier  of  the  eastern  principal  &ce  bears  on  its  pedestal  a 
|i;roup  representing  the  departure  of  the  French  army  in  1792.  Hie 
Genius  of  War  summons  the  nation  to  arms,  and  warriors,  of  difTer- 
ent  ages  and  in  different  costumes,  are  seen  arming  and  hastening  to 
battle. 

The  dimensions  of  this,  and  of  all  the  corresponding  groups,  are,  in 
total  height,  34  feet,  and  each  figure  18  feet  ''The  southern  pier  of 
the  same  front  has-  the  triumph  of  1810,  represented  by  Victory 
crowning  Napoleon.  Fame  surmounts  the  whole  and  History  records 
his  deeds ;  vanquished  towns  are  at  his  feet.  On  the  western  front, 
the  group  of  the  southern  pier  represents  the  resistance  of  the  French 
nation  to  the  invading  armies  of  1814.  A  young  man  is  seen  defend- 
ing his  wife,  his  children,  and  his  father ;  a  warrior  behind  him  is  fall- 
ing, slain,  from  his  horse,  and  the  Genius  of  the  future  flits  over  and  en- 
oourages  them  to  action.  That  on  the  northern  pier  is  the  peace  of 
1815 ;  a  warrior  is  seen  sheathing  his  sword ;  another,  more  aged, 
is  taming  a  buU  for  purposes  of  agriculture,  while  a  mother  and 
children  are  seated  at  their  feet,  and  Minerva,  crowned  with  laurela, 
sheds  over  him  her  protecting  influence."  The  most  admired  ornaments 
of  this  arch  are  the  alto-relievo  of  the  compartments  above  the  impost- 
oomice,  which  constitute  aft  unrivallod  aeries  of  modem  scilpture.    Ail 


U8  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 

the  other  groups  are  in  aotique  costumes,  being  allegorical,  and  are 
valuable  as  &ithful   representations  of  the  uniforms  of  the  times. 
The  southern  compartment  of  the  eastern  side,  represents  the  surrender 
of  Mustapha  Pasha,  at  the  battle  of  Aboukir.    The  northern  compart 
ment  of  the  same  side,  is  filled  with  a  group  of  the  death  of  General 
Maroeau.     Above  the  arch  and  impost-cornice  of  the  northern  side  of 
the  monument  is  a  magnificent  composition,  the  battle  of  Austerlitx ; 
on  the  western  front  the  northern  alto-relievo  is  the  taking  of  Alexan 
dria ;  the  other  group  is  the  passage  of  the  bridge  of  Areola.     On  the 
southern  side  of  the  building,  the  compartment  answering  to  the  bat- 
tle of  Austerlitz,  is  the  battle  of  Jemmapes.     Behind  General  Damon- 
riez  is  a  portrait  of  Louis  Philippe,  at  that  time  Duke  de  Chartres. 
The  frieze  is  occupied  on  the  eastern,  and  on  half  of  the  northern  and 
southern  sides,  by  the  departure  of  the  armies.     Hie  deputies  of  tke 
nation  grouped  round  the  altar  of  the  country,  distribute  flags  to  the 
troops.    There  are  portraits  of  all  the  great  characters  of  the  epodi 
1790-2  included  in  this  composition.     The  corresponding  portion  of 
the  frieze,  on  the  other  sides  of  the  building,  represent  the'retum  of  the 
armies,  who  offer  the  fruit  of  their  victories  to  regenerated  Franoe. 
The  series  of  bucklers,  thirty  in  number,  inscribed  each  with  vio- 
tory,  on  the  attic  above  the  entablature,  begins  with    Valmy,  and 
ends  with  Ligny.     Under  the  main  arch  are  the  names  of  ninety- 
six  victories.    The  allegorical  groups  on  the  other  arches  represent 
the .  conquest  of  the  armies  of  the  north,  east,  west  and  south,  the 
names  of  the  generals  corresponding  to  them  are  placed  beneat^ 
numbering  384.     Winding  staircases  in  the  two  eastern  piers,  lead  to 
several  halls,  "  and  from  the  platform  at  the  top,  one  of  the  finest  viewa, 
of  Paris  and  its  environs,  may  be  had."     Opposite  the  arch  is  the  Hip- 
podrome  or  Circus,  a  polygonal  edifice  of  sixteen  sides,  built  of  stone, 
with  an  elegant  pedimented  porch  to  the  east,  surmounted  with  .a 
bronze  figure  of  a  horse.*    It  is  devoted  to  equestrian  performances,  and 
is  said  to  contain  sixteen  circles  of  seats,  capable  of  holding  six  thous- 
and persons.     I  gave  it  but  a  passing  glance,  devoting  my  chief  time 
to  the  Arc  de  I'Etoile.     Here,  thought  I,  stands  the  monumental  re- 
cord of  the  bloodshed,  and  pillages,  and  ravages  of  war  waged  by  the 
most  renowned  of  modem  conquerors,  whom  God,  in  his  providenoe, 
employed,  for  a  season,  as  the  instrument  of  terrible  scourges  upon  the 
nations  of  Europe.     And  this  they  call  glory !    The  marble  for  a 
season  preserves  the  memory  of  infamous  deeds,  and  mortals  adoring, 
call  it  honor,  fame ! !     But  God  makes  a  different  estimate  of  all  this 
work  of  blood.     He  broke  the  rod  He  had  employed,  when  He  ceased 
fiom  His  scourgings ;  and  although  now,  the  name  of  Napoleon  may 


MmTAKT  HOfiPITAL.  149 


stand  emblazond  in  the  annals  of  &me,  the  marble  will  perish,  '*  the 
name  of  the  wicked  shall  Fot,''  and  the  Emperor  of  the  French,  like 
the  Pharaohs  of  Egypt,  be  little  known  and  less  cared  for.  The  mar- 
ble monument  maj  dazzle  the  eyes  of  those  who  love  the  praise  of 
mortals,  or  aim  at  popularity  ;  but  what  one  generation  rears  another 
destroys.  Whom  one  age  glorifies  another  reprobates.  Lord  let  my 
name  be  recorded,  not  on  the  annals  of  fame,  or  costly  tablets  of  mar- 
ble,  but  in  ^^  the  LambV  book  of  life !  '^  and  let  me  rather  stand  *'  a 
pillar  in  the  temple  of  my  God,"  upon  which  my  glorious  Lord  and 
Saviour,  Jesus  CSirist  may  "  write  the  name  of  my  God,  and  the  name 
of  the  city  of  my  God,  which  is  New  Jerusalem,  which  cometh  down 
out  of  heaven  from  my  God." 

The  Hotel  des  Invalides,  which  was  the  last  place  l^visited  this  day, 
is  an  asylum  for  military  invalids.  At  the  revolution  of  1789  it  took 
the  name  of  Temple  de  I'Humanite,  and  under  Napoleon,  was  called 
Temple  de  Mars,  when  the  number  of  its  inmates  was  frightfully  aug- 
mented. At  the  restoration  it  resumed  its  original  title.  The  build- 
ings cover  16  acres  of  ground,  and  inclose  15  oourts.  The  institution 
is  under  the  direction  of  the  Minister  of  War ;  and  is  governed  by 
the  Senior  Marshall  of  France,  assisted  by  a  stafi^  composed  of  one 
general  of  division,  one  colonel  or  lieutenant-colonel,  who  acts  as  major 
of  the  Hotel,  with  eight  adjutant  captains ;  one  almoner,  two  chap- 
lains, one  princ^ipal  physician,  surgeon  and  apothecary,  aqd  ten  assist- 
ants ;  26  sisters  of  charity,  and  260  servants  of  all  sorts.  The  police 
of  the  institution  is  afler  the  military  mode  ;  and  it  constitutes  a  little 
world  in  itself.  It  is  as  little  as  the  nation  could  do  for  its  old  or 
wounded  and  disabled  soldiers.  Conducted  by  the  custos  through  the 
apartments,  he  gave  opportunity  to  see  the  culinary  and  refectory  ar- 
rangements, and  the  tables  spread  for  officers  and  soldiers.  The  ser* 
vice  of  the  officers'  table  is  of  plate,  given  by  Maria  Louisa.  Three 
different  courses  are  served  for  the  three  divisions,  into  which  the  inmates 
are  distributed.  They  all  wear  the  same  uniform,  and  are  furnished 
alike  with  bread,  meet,  vegetables  and  wine.  Each  one  has  his  bed, 
straw,  and  wool  mattrasses,  bolster,  and  a  press  for  his  clothes.  The 
buildings  are  capable  of  accommodating,  comfortably,  5000  inval- 
ids. Some  15  pieces  of  artillery,  captured  at  Algiers  and  Constan- 
tina,  bearing  Arabic  inscriptions,  and  two  mortars,  fruits  of  victories 
by  the  French  army,  are  mounted  along  the  fosse.  The  front  of  the 
Hotel  is  upward  of  600  feet  long.  It  is  four  stories  high,  and  divided 
Into  three  pavilions,  the  central  one  being  decorated  with  Ionic  pilas- 
tteoy  supporting  an  arch,  on  the  tympan  of  which  is  a  bas-relief  of 
Louis  lY.  on  horse^back,  on  the  pedestal  of  which  is  the  following 
Latin  inscripUon ; 


150  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


'*  Ludovicus  Magnus,  militibus  regale  munifioentia,  in  perpetaum 
providens,  has  cedes  posuit,  A.  D.  MDCLXXV." 

Statues  of  Mars  and  Minerva  adorn  the  entrance.  Napoleon  found- 
ed a  library  for  the  institution,  which  contains  17,000  volvmes. 

It  is  in  the  church  belonging  to  this  institution,  and  forming  a  part 
of  the  great  pile,  in  which  rest  the  ashes  of  Napoleon.  Formerly 
there  were  two  churches,  but  when  the  works  now  in  progress,  for  the 
completion  of  his  sepulchre,  are  finished,  they  will  form  but  one.  In  a 
chapel  dedicated  to  St.  Jerome,  in  a  church  called  the  Dome,  the  body 
of  the  Emperor,  when  brought  from  St.  Helena,  in  1840,  found  a  tem- 
porary resting  place.  Of  the  great  pageant  and  funeral  pomp  con- 
nected with  its  deposit,  we  have  heard  nothing  parallel  in  modem 
times.  The  tomb,  when  completed,  will  be  magnificent,  of  which  the 
following  description  may  furnish  but  an  incomplete  idea.  ''  An  im- 
mense circular  crypt  has  been  dug  in  the  centre  of  the  church ;  the 
sarcophagus  containing  the  remains  of  Napoleon  will  be  placed  in  the 
crypt,  resting  on  a  platform,  accessible,  by  three  steps  of  green  mar- 
ble. A  gigantic  slab  of  porphyry,  weighing  135,000  lbs.,  and  brought 
from  Lake  Onega,  at  a  cost  of  130,000  francs,  covers  the  crypt.  Be- 
low, a  gallery,  paved  in  Mosaic  of  the  richest  kind,  and  adorned  with 
mai*ble  bas-reliefs,  representing  the  principal  passages  of  the  Emper- 
or^s  life,  runs  all  round  the  sarcophagus.  Twelve  colossal  caryatides, 
in  white  marble,  support  an  upper  gallery,  from  which  the  interior 
may  be  viewed.  These  caryatides  represent  War,  Legislation,  the 
Arts,  and  Science.  Before  the  tomb  is  a  magnificent  altar,  in  black  mar- 
ble with  white  veins.  Four  lofby  columns  of  the  same  material,  sup- 
port the  canopy  of  the  altar,  which  is  approached  by  ten  broad  mono- 
lith steps  in  marble  of  Carrara.  The  entrance  .to  the  inner  gallery 
passes  under  the  altar,  and  is  flanked  by  the  tombs  of  Bertrand  and 
Duroc  The  marble  employed  has  cost  1,500,000  francs.  The  tomb 
has  cost  about  6,000,000  francs  up  to  this  time.  The  following  in- 
Bcription  (translated)  is  to  be  placed  in  letters  of  gold  on  the  cofiin  of 
the  Emperor : 

^^  Napoleon  Bonapartb,  born  15th.  Auo.  1769,  Chef  d^Escadboh 
OF  Artillery  at  the  Sibqb  of  Toulon,  1793,  at  the  age  of  M  ; 
Commander  of  Artillsy,  in  1794,  at  the  age  of  25 ;  GENSRAt-or- 
Chief  of  the  Army  of  Italy,  in  1797,  at  the  age  of  28 ;  he  mads 
the  ExpBDrrioN  to  Egypt  in  1798,  at  the  age  of  29 ;  Was  nomiit- 
ated  First  Consul  in  1798,  at  30 ;  Consul  for  Life,  after  thb 
Battle  of  Marengo,  in  1800,  at  the  age  of  31 ;  Emperor  in  ISOi^ 
at  the  age  of  35  ;  Abdicated  after  the  Battle  of  Waterloo^ 
IK  1815,  AGED  45,  and  died  the  5th  of  May,  18S1,  aged  52w^ 


¥HS  BBIHB  Ain)  VtS  BBIDGXa  191 

And  of  what  value,  it  occurred  to  me,  is  all  thia  grandeur  to  the 
aoul  of  the  deceased  Emperor  ?  It  may  serve  to  shape  nad  stimulate 
the  idolatry  of  the  French  people,  as  does  the  tomb  of  Mahomet  that 
of  the  Musselmau,  or  do  the  shrines  of  numerous  saints  in  papal 
churhes,  the  superstitious  veneration  of  Roman  Catholics.  But  it  can 
naver  expiate  the  guilt  of  blood  shed  in  torrents,  nor  soothe  the  re- 
morse and  anguish  of  a  guilty  conscienoe ! 

The  hotel  des  Invalides  is  on  the  south  side  of  the  river  Seine,  in 
going  to  which,  I  crossed  the  suspension  bridge,  called  Pont  des  Inval* 
idee.  It  is  in  a  line  with  the  Avenue  d^Antin,  which  leads  firom  the 
^  Bond  Point,"  or  Etoile  Champs  Elysees,  a  circular  place  embellished, 
with  a  fountain  midway  between  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  and  the 
Barriere  de  PEtoile.  The  bridge  is  350  feet  long  and  24  broad,  with 
a  carriage  road  and  foot-way.  It  forms  a  convenient  connection  be- 
twene  the  Gros  Callore  and  tiie  Faubourg.  St.  Honore  stretches  across 
the  Seine  from  the  Quai  de  la  Conference,  in  front  of  the  Cour  la 
Beine,  on  the  north,  to  the  spacious  Quai  d'Orsay,  on  the  south  side  of 
the  River.  The  waters  of  the  Seine  were  not  dear,  like  the  streams  of 
our  mountain  regions.  Whether  occasionally  only,  from  recent  rains, 
or  habitually,  from  the  nature  of  the  soil,  I  cannot  say,  but  they  were 
always,  when  I  saw  them,  turbid  and  yellow.  A  government  vessel, 
manned  and  ri^ed  like  a  frigate,  lay  anchored  in  the  stream.  At  first 
s^ht  it  excited  my  surprise,  knowing  that  the  navigation  of  the  Seine 
admits  only  of  boats ;  but  upon  inquiry,  I  learned  that  it  is  used  as  a 
sdiool,  for  the  education  of  youth  in  naval  tactics. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

eofUinuid — Church  af  Notre  Dame^Caiacomhs — Tfie  Louvre-^VersaiUea-^ 

Orand  Trianon, 

Sept,  14^.  Visited  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  and  ascended 
the  tower.  While  on  its  summit,  the  great  bell,  with  deafening  sound, 
atruck  the  hour  of  12.  I  thought  with  horror  of  the  fetal  signal  its 
huge  and  barbarous  tongue,  as  some  accounts  I  had  seen,  stated  it  had 
given  for  the  slaughter  of  the  poor  Huguenots,  and  of  the  torrents  of 
blood  that  had  flowed  in  Paris  during  the  massacre  of  the  Protestants 
on  St  Bartholomew's  day,  and  realized  deeply,  the  hideous  corrup- 
tions and  abominations  of  popery.* 

— — ^-^^— ^ — — -  -  -   — — -  -  I  .  -   -   — 

•nito,  howerer,  upon  exAinlnfttlon,  I  find  )»  not  oorreoi.  It  wm  from  the  belfry  of  the  Ghveh 
•r  St.  Qermain  de  rAnzerroli,  long  considered  the  roytl  pftriih,  the  LouTre  and  the  Tnilledei 
boinf  coniidered  within  Its  precinoti,  th»t  the  fatal  signal  wai  glren,  andrei|randed  to,  from  the 
Frtali  (now  d6  thutte*)  for  the  eommencement  of  themanacre,  on  the  ere  of  the  Fete  of  St.  Bar- 
theiemle,  ttd  Ancost,  1579.  The  beUa  of  thla  ehorch  toUed  the  whole  of  that  dnadfU  night. 
Vram  a  hooae  ttiat  stood  near  Its  cloisters,  a  shot  was  fired  at  the  admiral  de  Oollgnjr,  a  nott  ' 
tlowwrevloas  to  that  mpasorabls  trsgedj."  This  hoUding  escaped  the  rarages  of  the  rerohitloft 
0f  1TC9|  bat  in  that  of  1881  ererytfahig  within  it  was  destroyed,  though  It  was  one  of  the  most 
PBBplnoQBly  adorned  of  any  church  In  Paris. 


lis '  Nom  Of  iroftfeioir  nt^nOi. 

Ill        I I.. I.I. -I    III     I    ■■  ...I  .    ,11.      ..,,-,■,  ■  — 

• 

nM'clni^cli  of  Notrd  Dame  is  a  great  pile  of  bufldingri,  in'the  Go- 
tUo  a^ie,  tbrown  together  in  that  style  of  arohiteotore—exteniaHj, 
insomeparta,  of  andeiit  and  ruggid  appearance,  and  internally,  of  sd- 
etnn  grandeur.  Neither  its  orginal  foundation,  nor  its  prinoipal  reoon- 
stmctiofiB  and  repairs  have  been  sadsfiu^torily  determined.  But  there 
isiio  doubt,  from  diseoveries  made  in  1711,  of  an  altar  dedicated  to 
Jupiter,  and  the  foundations  of  an  ancient  building,  that  it  oocnpieii 
the  sight  of  an  old  Roman  pagan  templQ.  It  takes  its  present  name  of 
Notre  Dame  from  one  of  its  chappels,  which  ( !!hildebert  had  dedicated 
to  the  Virgin  Mary. 

It  is  built  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  having  an  octagonal  eastern  end, 
and  double  aisles  surrounding  the  choir  and  nave,  with  a  complete  se- 
ries of  lateral  chapels.  From  its  western  end  rise  two  lofty  towers, 
after  the  manner  of  those  of  Westminster  Abbey,  which  were  evi- 
dently intended  to  support  spires.  They  want  the  spires,  to  give  them 
proper  e^^t.  The  appearance,  they  present,  of  an  unfinished  condi- 
tion, detracts  from  the  general  effect  of  the  building.  You  feel  disap- 
pointed in  beholding  it ;  and  the  imagination  impromptu,  seeks  to  sup^ 
ply  the  defbct,  leaving  you  with  the  conscious  conviction,  that  the  skill 
of  the  architect,  or  the  fimds  of  the  proprietor,  failed  befbre  its  com* 
plelfon.  I  have  seen  some  attempts  at  the  Gothic  style  of  arehitee- 
tiire  in  the  United  States-^riM^tf  indigeHaqne  moles — ^a  rude,  ill-digested, 
ill^hapen  affidr,  with  a  square  tower,  that  would  puzzle  the  most  partial 
beholder  to  trace  its  resemblance  to  anything  like  what  it  was  propos-' 
ed  by  it  to  represent.  In  criticizing  them,  I  have  been  told  that  square 
towers  on  Gothic  buildings  were  common  on  cathedrals  and  churches 
in  Europe.  I  have  seen,  also,  drafts  made  by  professed  architects,  as 
.  designs  for  new  churches,  in  which  the  like  deformity  to  my  eye,  held 
a  conspicuous  place.  But  the  towers  of  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame 
irere  evidently  designed  to  support  lofty  spires.  The  failure  of  re- 
sources, so  common  in  large  Roman  Catholic  buildings,  to  complete 
the  design,  is  a  sufBcent  reason  for  the  imperfect  appearance  they  pre- 
sent But  it  seems  to  me  a  very  vitiated  taste,  a  blind  passion  for  the 
sombre  and  outre  style  of  antiquaited  building,  to  adopt  into,  and  at^ 
tempt  to  imitate,  in  new  edifices^  the  manifest  defects  and  imperfections 
of  their  works,  who  had  not  suflicicently  counted  the  cost  before  they 
began  to  build. 

Were  the  towers  of  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame  surmounted  bj 
klffy'aud  api^priate  spires,  the  building  would  have  a'mueh  greater 
eflittft  thaii  it  now  oonfeadedly  has.    Its  great  dlmemtions,  md  Ua  very 
eiriy  attd  pta^  pointed  style  of  architectare,  however,  make  a  atroug': 
wapmiixm.    The  length  tif  the  bufldiiig  is  sttt^d  to  be  8M  fiset,  tbe 


OtiCBCH  OF  W^Fki  VAUM.  iH 

■"'■'-■     ■  '     '  '     '         '  ■    ■  '■    —  ■  -'    ■  ■  ■  ■.,,.,-■■  ^1.^, 

wIMi  of  the  tranepto  114,  height  of  yatiHang,  IM  feet,  and  of  the 
g^eat  towera  203.  Ihe  lengtii  of  ite  nare  is  325  feet,  and  width  M 
feet.  The  roof  is  856  feet  long,  formed  of  chestnut  timber,- and  riaee 
Wfeet  ahore  the  vauiting.  The  diameter  of  its  dreular  windows  is 
96  feet,  and  of  the  pillars  of  its  nave  4  feet 

Tlie  western  is  the  principal  fhmt,  and  presents  the  most  remarka* 
Ue  fenture  of  the  edifice.  Tlie  spacious  portals  lead  into  the  naye  and 
sales,  being  a  series  of  retiring  arches,  embellished  in  their  interned!^ 
sto  mouldings  with  representations,  of  angels,  saints,  and  scrtptnra! 
figures.  The  scnlptures,  which  adorn  the  portals,  are  intended  to  rcpre^ 
8Ait  the  angels  sounding  the  last  trump,  the  tombs  opening,  and  the 
dead  rising,  the  separation  of  the  righteous  from  the  wicked,  the  Saviour 
on  his  throne,  worshiped  by  the  Virgin  and  John  the  Evangelist,  with  an* 
gels  bearing  emblems  of  the  crucifixion.  I  have  often  been  struck  b j  tiie 
igaonmce,  betrayed  in  pictorial  and  statuary  representations,  of  scenei 
aad  events  recorded  in  the  Scriptures — as  of  Ishmael,  being  represented 
aaaik  infant,  and  the  like ;  but  it  was  new  to  me  to  learn,  that  '*  the  trump^ 
of  God,"  with  which  Paul  says  *'  the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from 
Heaven,'^  had  been  converted,  by  the  artist  and  the  directing  priests, 
into  a  band  of  angels  with  trumpets !  The  taste  and  bold  conceptions, 
of  what  I  must  sometimes  call  impious  artists,  however,  are  of  more 
viflne  and  authority,  with  those  that  prohibit  the  reading  of  the  Scrip* 
tores,  than  Kble  statements.  Figures  of  Moses  and  Aaron ;'  of  the 
Sfcriour  treading  the  wicked  beneath  his  feet,  while  Satan  is  dragging 
them  to  hell ;  of  the  rider  on  the  red  horse  in  the  Revelation,  and 
other  sculptures  also,  adorn  the  ardi  of  the  Portail  du  I/tUeu^  the  mid- 
dle door.  The  sides  of  the  entrance  present  24  bas-reliefs  of  12  vir- 
tues and  as  many  vices ;  and  others,  of  Abraham  departing  for  Canaan; 
and  ofiering  up  Isaac ;  two  of  Job,  one  as  beholding  the  destmction  of 
his  (looks  aad  herds  by -a  torrent,  and  the  other  as  reproved  by  hts 
wife.  Statnes  of  the  12  Apostles,  newly  made,  fill  the  niches  from 
wkaeh  their  predecessors  had  been  destroyed  during  the  revolution  of 
ITM.  Those  other  patriardis  and  kings  of  the  Old  Testament  alao 
destroyed  at  the  same  time,  have  not  yet  been  replaced.  Scenes  of 
Seriptnral  history  in  the  life  of  Joseph  and  of  Christ,  the  visit  of  the 
wiser  men  to  Bethlehem,  their  ofierings,  ^ec,  are  sculptnred  in  the  com* . 
psrtSment  of  the  tympan  above  the  door  of  the  Portail  Ste.  Anne.  At 
th^rammit  10  a  shockingly  impious  attempt  to  represent,  the  Btsr« 
na^mheritt  His  f^ory,  surrounded  by  tiie  prophets,  beneath  him  the 
nMhal  Lamb,  and  stiU'  lower  the  Saviour  attended  by  sahits  aad 

The  P&rMl  4tla  Vierpe  or  of  the  Virgin,  which  leads  into  the  M 


IM  K0TB8  OF  FOBBIGV  TKAYEL 

UBie,  is  of  sunilAT  character,  only  the  Virgin  figores  more  oonspioa- 
oiuly.  The  most  interesting  of  all  the  baa-retie&,  of  this,  or  either  of 
the  other  entranoes,  are  the  twelve  ingns  of  the  Zodiac,  and  the  agriool* 
tmral  labors  appropriate  to  each  of  the  months  of  the  year,  on  tiie 
door-posts.  There  is  an  amusing  oonceit  of  the  artist,  among  th^i, 
representing  the  sixth  sign,  Virgo,  by  a  sculptor  forming  a  statue,  said 
to  be  that  of  the  Virgin  Mary  !  The  different  ages  of  man,  in  six 
stages,  firom  youth  to  senility,  and  of  the  temperature  of  the  year,  in 
a  corresponding  number  of  bas-reliefe,  are  exhibited  on  different  sides 
of  this  pillar.  I  did  not  remain  long  enough  to  raalce  a  minute  exam- 
ination of  this  building,  adorned  so  copiously  with  its  bas-relief 
sculptures,  of  the  same  general  character  with  those  I  have  described. 
The  interior  is  not,  however,  as  rich  as  the  exterior.  I  was  vwy 
un&vorably  impressed  with  its  dingy  and  darlL  appearance.  Hie 
arches  of  the  nave  are  pointed,  and  the  piers  bold,  with  large  capitak. 
The  pillars  of  the  aisles  are  alternately,  circular  columns,  and  clusters 
with  twelve  slender  columns  eacL  The  chapels  are  plain,  in  keeping 
with  the  interior.  An  immetlse  vault  extends  the  entire  length  of  the 
nave,  which  was  formerly  appropriated  for  the  interment  of  the  cancMis, 
chapliuns,  choristers,  6cc.,  of  the  cathedral,  but  of  late  years  has  -not 
been  so  used.  A  curious  bas-relief,  forming  part  of  the  tomb  of  Eti- 
enne  Yver,  represents,  in  the  upper  part,  the  scene  of  the  last  judg- 
ment, and  in  iJie  lower,  a  man  rising  from  the  tomb,  near  which  is  a 
body  covertd  with  warms  !  It  is  nearly  400  years  old,  and  in  shocking 
grotesque  taste. 

The  organ  in  this  building  is  45  feet  high,  36  broad,  and  contains 
8484  pipes.  Ihis  church  suffered  greatly  in  the  revolution  of  1789, 
when  most  of  its  ornaments  were  destroyed ;  but,  under  the  Empire,  at- 
tempts were  made  to  collect  and  restore  the  works  cf  art,  of  which  it 
had  been  robbed.  The  lateral  chapels,  once  remarkable  for  their 
splendor — ^their  walls  being  covered  with  marble  and  finely  carved 
work,  enriched  with  gilding,  and  embellished  with  sumptuous  tombs, 
belonging  to  families — ^were  stripped  of  their  riches  in  17d3.  Many 
of  thran  have  been  repaired,  and  contain  paintings  of  the  annuncia- 
tion, of  the  crucifixion,  of  the  Virgin,  of  saints,  &o.,  like  those  in  Gb- 
tholic  churches  generally,  called  ^  works  of  art.'^  The  founts  for  the 
**holy  water  ^'  are  two  enormous  sea  shells.  The  sacristy  of  this 
diurch,  once  enriched  with  gold  and  silver  utensils,  i^Murkling  with 
precious  gems,  and  with  costly  vestments,  and  the  coronation  robes  of 
Napoleon,  was  desecrated  by  the  populace,  in  1831 — at  the  sacking  of 
8t  Germain  de  I'Auxerrois  and  the  archbishop's  palace— who,  headed 
by  officers  of  the  National  Guards,  destroyed  everything  that  came  witii- 


CATAO0ICB8  Of  PAUa  111 

in  tlieir  reach.  Hie  robes  were  torn  to  pieces  tw  tbeir  gold  embroi* 
dery,  and  the  damage  done  irreparable.  An  elaborate  picture  <^  the 
interior  of  the  Cathedra^  by  a  oelebrated  artist,  and  nearly  completed, 
remaining  on  the  easel  in  the  vestry,  was  out  into  a  thousand  piecei. 
Statues  of  Louis  XIII  and  Louis  XIV,  on  either  side  of  the  high  at 
tar  were  both  destroyed.  The  veugeance  <^  the  mob  seemed  to  d^ 
light  itself  in  dishonoring  this  great  seat  and  centre  of  Roman  Oatho- 
lic  idolatry  in  Paris,  whose  influence  had  been  felt  in  former  ages,  for 
the  support  and  flattery  of  arch-bishops  and  kings,  that  delighted  in 
deeds  of  in&mous  and  bloody  persecution  against  protestants.  At 
•the  revolution  of  1793,  the  remains  of  four  arch-bishops,  which  had 
been  interred  in  a  vault,  not  shown  to  strangers,  beneath  the  choir, 
were  disinterred  for  the  sake  of  their  leaden  coflins,  and  the  entrails 
of  Louis  XIU  and  Louis  XIV,  contained  in  leaden  coflins,  in  another 
and  smaller  vault,  shared  the  same  &te.  How  striking  and  pointed 
is  the  retribution  of  Divine  Providence !  The  very  bowels  of  those 
proud  persecutors  must  not  be  allowed  to  rest  in  peace,  but  be  exhum* 
ed  for  the  sport  of  an  infuriate  mob. 

I  perceived,  both  in  this  church  and  in  the  Madeleine,  that  seats,  or 
old-flishioned  French  rush-bottomed  straight-backed  chairs,  are  rented, 
at  the  rate  of  one  or  two  sous,  to  persons,  who  enter  the  churdi,  and 
that  women  go  round  during  the  service  to  collect  the  money,  whidi 
liiey  put  into  a  chest,  till  at  the  close  of  the  service,  one  of  the  priests 
takes  it  and  carries  it  into  the  sacristy.  The  more  1  see,  of  the  mumr* 
mery  and  robberies  of  Popery,  the  more  I  am  amazed. 

We  fiuled  to-day  in  getting  into  the  catacombs,  having  learned  that 
there  are  no  pennits  granted  for  entrance,  because  of  the  dangerous 
condition  of  the  ceilings— stones  continually  dropping  and  rendering  it 
unsafe  for  visitors.  The  catacombs  have  their  entrance  a  few  steps  to 
the  right  of  the  Barriere  d'Enfer,  a  singular  juxtaposition,  as  it  struck 
me,  in  view  of  the  name.  They  are  immense  receptacles  for  the 
bones  of  the  dead.  The  contents  of  the  cemetery  of  the  InnocentSi 
and  other  burial  places,  were  removed,  during  the  last  century,  into 
ike  ancient  quarries,  which  had  existed  beneath  the  southern  part  of 
Paris,  extending  under  the  Observatory,  Luxembourg,  the  Odeon,  the 
Val  de  Grace,  the  Pantheon,  the  streets  of  La  Harpe,  8t.  Jaques, 
Toumon,  Vangirard,  and  others.  The  ascertained  extent  of  these 
quarries,  is  about  200  acres.  It  is  supposed  that^  taking  into  the  es^ 
timate  the  galleries  along  which  these  excavations  extend,  they  under* 
mine  one-sixth  part  of  Paris.  The  principal  part  of  them  lie  under 
the  fimbourgs  St.  Marcel,  St.  Jaques,  St.  Germain,  and  Chaillote.  In^ 
dioations  having  been  observed,  of  some  sinkings  having  taken  plaM^ 


Ilt>  NOTES  OF  fOBSiaN  TRAVBL 

ei^pMen  and  workmeD  were  employed  to  eiAmine  them  thorou^ily, 
anipiit  {»^p8  under  tlie  streets,  roads,  churches,  palaces,  and  buildup 
of  afl  sorts,  in  danger  of  being  engulphed.  The  removal  of  1^  bonea 
from  the  cemeteries  took  place  at  night,  priests  following  and  chaatuig 
the  burial  service  till  they  reached  the  catacombs,  where  they  were  tom- 
bled  in  heaps  down  the  shaft  Since  that,  the  bones  have  been  ai^ 
ranged ;  arms,  legs,  and  thig^  being  regularly  and  closely  piled  toge- 
ther, with  rows  of  shells  to  relieve  the  uniformity.  Those  oocupyisg 
the  part  along  the  sides  of  the  gallery,  are  piled  from  the  floor  to  the 
ceiling,  and  ybehind  them  are  deposited  the  smaller  bones.  It  is  esti- 
mated, that  these  catacombs  contain  the  remains  of  at  least  3,000,000 
of  human  beings. 

SepL  l&lA.  The  fatigue  of  yesterday  secured  a  night  of  sound  re- 
pose. Our  hotel  is  completely  French.  None  but  the  gargon  can 
speak  a  word  of  English,  and  he  just  enough  to  attend  to  the  calls  of 
the  guests  at  the  table  d^hote.  We  have  comfortable  apartments  on 
the  second  story,  to  which  wc  ascend  from  the  interior  of  the  court, 
around  which  the  buildings  of  the  Hotel  des  Etrangeres,  No.  9,  Rue 
Vivienne^  are  situated.  We  cannot,  indeed,  look  out  from  them  upon 
the  gay  world  that  throngs  the  streets,  but  are  compensated  for  this 
by  the  absence  of  all  its  noise  to  disturb  our  slumbers,  and  our 
own  absence  from  our  apartments  through  the  day.  We  rise  at  a  late 
hofur  in  the  morning,  caring  not,  after  the  &tigues  of  the  day,  to  do 
more  than  leisurely  prepare  ours^ves  for  d^ewier^  which  is  in  readl- 
nes  at  10  o'clock  A.  M.  Afler  that,Ve  pursue  our  yieaary  way  through 
llie  ^  sights  "  that  Invite  strangers  in  this  gay  and  giddy  metropolis. 

The  domestic  habits  of  the  French  differ  totally  from  those  of  our  own 
country.  The  str^^ets,  the  cafes,  the  shops,  the  places  of  resort,  contri- 
bute a  large  amount  to  the  Frenchman's  enjoymentn.  He  cares  but 
for  his  cup  of  cofiee  and  biscuit  when  he  rises,  and  postpones  his  dejeu* 
ner,  answering  to  our  breakfast,  till  from  9  to  10  A.  M.  Soups, 
light  viands,  and  fruits,  in  several  courses,  are  served,  each  in  its  turn, 
and  by  itself  Our  American  breakfast  of  tea  or  coffee,  with  steak, 
chops,  or  other  accompaniments,  had  to  be  specially  called  for,  which, 
after  the  last  two  days'  experience,  we  have  ordered  to  be  served  in 
oor  apartment,  a  la  mode  de  I'Anglais.  The  caffe  has  no  attraction  for 
me.  Dinner  is  served  up  at  4,  P.  M.,  by  which  time  we  are  pretty- 
well  fatigued  and  willing  to  withdraw  from  **  sight  seeing."  The  din- 
ner runs  through  a  series  of  courses,  for  about  two  hours.  Every 
dish  is  first  placed  upon  the  table,  while  you  are  partaking  of  a  pre- 
Ttovs  course,  and  then  removed,  to  give  place  to  another,  by  which 
we  are  kept  advertised  of  what  is  coming.    The  order  of  sue- 


THE  COMMON  WINE  OF  FRANCE.  Ut 

oession,  sometimes  has,  to  mj  ide«i*aiid  taste,  a  touoh  of  the  indie-' 
rous.  €oup,  fisli,  meats,  fowl,  dec.,  and  the  pecaiiar  pr^wirations  of 
the  Freneh  cook,  all  come,  one  after  the  other,  and  vegetables,  fraitB, 
nuts,  &c,  in  their  turn,  each  by  itself — spinach  vithout  eggs,  and 
peas,  and  vegetable  marrow,  toward  the  dose  of  the  feast.  As  for  pota- 
toes you  must  call  for  them  when  you  wish  them.  A  quart  bottle  of 
**  vin  ordiniure  "  is  placed  between  every  two  plates,  and  replenished 
as  often  as  demanded.  The  Frenchman  guzzles  his  wine,  slightly  di- 
luted with  water,  along  with  6very  course.  It  is  mild,  weak,  acid,  and 
somewhat  astringent ;  well  adapted  as  a  corrective  of  the  limestone 
water,  so  apt  to  be  deleterious,  in  its  effects,  toward  the  dose  of  sum^ 
mer  and  in  autumn.  It  has  a  little  alcohol  in  it,  and  in  potency,  so 
like  the  water  dder  of  the  United  States,  that  it  would  require  amudi 
greater  capadty  than  of  ordinary  human  stomachs,  to  contain  enough  to 
intoxicate.  1  doubt  not,  from  its  character,  so  far  as  I  could  judge^ 
that  it  must  be  made,  much  in  the  same  way  that  our  fiumers  make 
the  water  dder,  after  the  first  pressure  of  the  apples,  by  pouring  wi^ 
ter.  on  the  pomace  and  suffering  them  to  remain  a  day  or  two  before 
putting  them  under  the  screw  a  second  time.  1  am  not  surprised, 
therefore,  that  there  should  be  less  intoxication  observable  here,  than 
in  our  own  country,  where  such  a  drink  as  the  ^*  vin  ordinaire,"  free 
from  all  enforcing  alcoholic  additions,  suits  and  satisfies  the  taste  of 
the  masses.  What  I  have  seen  of  it,  and  its  common  use  here,  has 
fioniirmed  me  in  the  o{Hnion,  1  have  long  entertained,  that  if,  while  in 
our  own  country,  we  labor  to  banish  intoxicating  liquors,  as  unquas^ 
linably  we  ought  to  do— with  as  wise  and  determined  measures  aa.wt 
would  poisons  and  pestiferous  infhiences,  producing  disease  and  .in- 
creasing mortality,  to  say  nothing  of  the  impoverishment  and  inereas* 
ed  expenses,  engendered  by  the  use  of  fiery  liquors,  often  drugged  to 
give  them  force — we  would  promote  the  cultivation  of  the  vine,  and 
the  manufacture  of  a  cheap  beverage,  devoid  of  strong  alcoholic  ati* 
mnlus,  such  as  the  low  wines  or  diluted  '^  vin  ordinaire,"  of  this  coun- 
try, we  would  do  as  much,  if  not  more  to  promote  temperanoe^ 
than  has  yet  been  accomplished  by  prohibitory  laws,  with  provisioas 
and  penalties  so  rigorous  as  to  prove  irritating.  The  poor  man  here 
finds  a  healthful  and  refreshing  drink,  possessing  a  wine,that  has  prevent- 
ive virtue  against  the  summer  and  autumnal  dieases,  appropriate  to 
limestone  regions,  and  which  a  few  sous  will  purchase  by  the  quart  for 
him.  It  is  even  cheaper  than  tea  or  coffee,  and  being  generally  sa\h 
statuted  for  them  along  with  food,  has  formed  a  taste  among  the  mtirn^ 
es,  whidi  renders  enforced  and  intoxicating  liquors  undesirable  to 
them. 


168  NOTSS  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 

Intending  to  devote  most  of  our  time  this  daj  in  a  vist  to  the  Lou- 
▼re,  we  started  early  from  our  hotel,  and  passed  along  Rue  Vivi^me, 
hj  the  Bourse,  to  the  Boulevards  des  Italiens  and  des  Capuoines,  Rue 
de  la  Paix,  to  the  Plaoe  and  Colonne  Vendome,  and  from  thence 
dvough  the  Rue  St.  Honore  to  Rue  de  Rivoli,  and  the  Plaoe  de  Oar- 
ousel,  to  the  Palais  Louvre.  The  shops,  on  Rue  Vivienne  and  the  Bool- 
▼ards,  are  very  beautiful  and  &8cinating,  full  of  rich  displays  of  all 
sorts  of  attractive  wares.  They  are  not,  however,  so  grand  and  ex- 
tensive as  some  I  have  seen  in  New  York  and  other  American  cities. 

The  Bourse  or  Exchange,  called  the  Palais  de  la  Bourse,  is  a  fine  piece 
of  architecture.  It  is  in  taste  and  style,  like  the  church  of  the  Made- 
leine, situated  on  the  Boulevard  des  Madeleines,  at  the  head  of  Rue 
Royal.  The  French  call  it  a  chef  d'oeuvre  des  chefs  d'oevre.  It  ooca- 
pies  the  site  of  an  old  convent,  and  has  been  btiilt  in  the  preaent  oen 
ury.  It  is  in  Grecian  style,  in  form  a  parallelogram,  surrounded  with 
Corinthian  columns,  after  the  general  manner  of  the  Greek  Parthenon. 
Here  all  the  great  operations  pf  exchange  take  plaoe,  and  the  sessions 
of  the  Tribunal  of  Commerce  are  held  from  10  A.  M.  to  5  P.  M.  It 
is  the  temple  of  mammon  upon  the  abode  of  the  holy  daughters  of  St. 
"Hiomas. 

Various  omnibuses  start  from  its  immediate  vicinity;  but  no  such  con- 
fusion and  crowds  occur,  as  I  haiire  witnessed  at  the  Exchange  in  Phila- 
delphia, which  is  also  the  starting  point  of  numerous  lines  of  such  pub- 
lic conveyances.  A  small  ticket  office  stands  in  the  open  space,  into 
which  you  can  enter,  and  ha\'ing  purchased  your  ticket  for  any  part  of 
•  Paris  to  which  the  omnibuses  run,  take  your  seat  and  await  the  time 
of  its  departure.  A  female  is  in  attendance,  and  supplies  you  widi 
tickets.  Having  occasion  yesterday  to  pass  to  the  Cham^  des  Mars^ 
I  entered  and  obtained  a  ticket,  when  hifo  instead  of  one  were  furnish- 
ed. Madame  immediately  began  to  make  her  explanations,  but  ahe 
spoke  so  exceedingly  fast,  that,  although  1  repeatedly  urged  doueement^ 
Madame^  doucementj  and  she  seemed  to  attempt  a  slower  speedy  yet, 
my  ears,  little  accustomed  to  discriminate  French^utterances,  proved 
utterly  at  &ult,  and  I  failed  to  comprehend  her,  most  ze^louely  seekii^ 
to  Toake  me  understand.  Happily,  a  young  German,  sitting  on  one 
of  the  cushioned  benches,  stepped  up,  and,  in  his  own  language,  asked 
me,  if  I  could  speak  German,  of  which  I  had  not  as  full  knowledge  as 
of  French,  but  which,  being  more  slowly  uttered,  I  much  more  readily 
comprehended.  My  eye  had  been  much  more  fiimiliar  than  my  ear 
with  the  French  language,  and  having  wholly  studied  it,  "by  hdp  of 
books,  having  never  had  the  opportunity  of  learning  by  the  ear,  I 
found  the  first  effort  of  my  own  mind  in  attempting  to  speak,  was  to 


/ 


PLAOB  TBNDOICB.  1C9 


place  the  phrase  before  my  nund,  and  read  it  previously  in  my  own 
thou^ts ;  a  very  different  effort  from  thinking  in  the  languaage.    The 
matter  was  quite  ludicrous  to  myself,  though  apparently  to  no  one 
else.     But  for  the  young  German,  I  should  have  been  utterly  at  a 
loss.     From  him  I  learned  that  the  second  ticket  was  to  entitle  me  to  a 
passage  in  another  line  of  omnibuses,  which  would  take  me  up  where 
it  crossed  the  track  of  that  in  which  I  should  leave  the  Bourse ;  the 
latter  passing  into  and  continuing  along  the  Boulevards  and  dropping 
its  passengers  at  the -points  of  intersection  with  those  running  across 
this  great  thorouhgfare.    The  incident  led  me  to  some  reflections  on  the 
defective  manner  in  which  foreign  languages  are  generally  taught  in 
our  American  schools.     If  teachers  would  begin  with  words  and 
phrases,  and  lead  their  pupils  to  think  and  express  their  thoughts  by 
oral  sounds,  with  which  their  ears  had  been  familiar,  and  which  their 
memory  had  stored  up,  it  would  be  more  in  accordance  with  the  man- 
ner of  teaching  the  child,  to  speak.     The  grammar  would  be  easily 
and  better  learned  afterward.    -The  practice  is  of  radical  importance. 
Qiildren  learn  language  first  wholly  through  the  ear,  and  a  great  deal 
quicker  than  through  the  medium  of  the  eye  and  books. 

The  Place  Vendome  is  on  the  site  of  an  old  convent,  which  Louis 
XIV  appropriated  and  embellished,  and  which  thence  bore  the  nam^ 
of  LfOuis  le  Grand.  It  is  an  octagonal-  area,  having  four  large  and  four 
small  sides.  It  is  surrounded  with  fine  buildings,  and  until  the  first 
revolution  in  1792,  an  equestrian  statue  of  Louis  XIV  occupied  its 
centre.  It  now  is  distinguished  by  a  column  erected  in  honor  of  the 
French  armies,  after  a  plan  given  by  Napoleon,  in  1805.  It  is  45 
metres  or  148  feet  high  and  4  metres  or  13  in  diameter,  resting  on  a 
pedestal  8  metres  or  26  feet  high,  and  5  metres  or  16  feet  broad.  The 
shaft  is  veneered  with  276  plates  of  bronze,  formed  out  of  1,200  pieces 
of  cannon,  taken,  by  the  French  armies,  in  their  battles  with  those  of 
Germany  and  Russia.  The  plates  are  disposed  in  spiral  lines,  and  are 
adorned  with  bas-reliefs,  representing  the  principal  exploits  of  the 
campaign  of  1805,  until,  and  comprising,  that  of  the  battle  of  Auster- 
litz.  In  the  interior,  a  spiral  staircase,  of  176  steps,  as  dark  as  Ere- 
bus, affords  opportunity  for  ascending  to  a  gallery,  resting  on  the  cap- 
ital of  the  colunm,  surmounted  by  a  statue  of  Napoleon  on  foot,  in  the 
simple  costume  of  his  grey  overcoat,  wtih  a  three<3omered  cocked 
hat  on  his  head.  A  signal  is  passed  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  and 
vUe  verKLy  upon  the  descending  or  ascending  of  visitors,  to  prevent  their 
meeting  on  the  stairway  in  the  dark.  From  the  summit  of  this  prond 
malesUc  monumental  memorial  of  the  Emperor  of  France,  we  had  a 
magnificent  view  of  the  city  and  environs.    The  Place  Vradome  is 


i«o  NOUS  OF  TOBBian  tbavbl 

*  ■      ■■■■...     I »         ...       - 1,         ,1.  ■ 

rendered,  by  this  rioh  and  Bplendid  oolumn,  <Hie  of  the  most  remark- 
able  localities  in  Paris— perhaps  in  the  world !  What  marvelloua  re- 
minisoences  does  the  column  record !  It  would  not  be  surprising,  if 
the  military  chieflan  should,  ere  long,  be  adored  as  &  saint  by  his  idolo- 
trous  worshippers. 

The  Palace  of  the  Louvre,  of  all  other  places  inPans,  deserves 
the  most  to  be  visited  and  admired.  Weeks  and  months  might  be 
profitably  spent  in  its  museums,  in  connecticm  with  studies  in  the  fiae 
arts  and  antiquities.  In  point  o*.  architectural  taste  and  grandeur,  it 
has  rivals ;  but,  in  its  treasures,  none. .  Here  is  to  be  found  the  moBt 
complete  collection  of  the  chefe-d'oeuvre  of  all  the  great  masters,  both 
ancient  and  modem.  The  French  pronounce  it  so  magnificent,  and 
•80  varied,  in  the  richest  productions  of  art,  so  intelligently  and  a!d- 
mirably  selected,  daissified  and  arranged,  as  to  make  it  a  museum  the 
most  interesting  and  curious  of  any  in  Europe.  To  visit  Paris  and 
not  see  the  Louvre,  is,  as  they  say,  to  go  to  Rome  and  not  see  the  Pope. 
A  stranger  had  better  never  own  he  had  visited  the  former,  if  ke 
should  be  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  have  seen  the  latter ;  for,  the  Lou- 
vre is  Paris  itself  tout  entier^  in  whatever  it  possesses,  most  noble, 
worthy,  grand,  and  imposing  ;  the  chefd'oeuvre  of  chefrd'oceuvre, 
the  temple  of  taste,  the  mansion  of  sciences,  the  glory  of  the  fine  acta. 
Much  as  I  admire  its  collections,  I  could  not  be  transported  into  sush 
extravgant  laudations,  being  somewhat  naturally,  as  well  as  religious- 
ly, opposed  to  the  use  of  hyperbole  and  superlatives ;  especially  when 
my  own  observation  and  comparisons  would  not  authorize  them,  b«t 
reader  the  use  of  them  ridiculous  or  vainly  presumptious.  Such 
excess  may  suit  the  French  taste,  and,  those  of  mercurial  temperament 
like  them,  but  4he  claims  of  sober  truth,  and  its  value,  render  it,  to 
me,  exceedingly  disgusting ;  and,  in  spite  of  myself,  lower  those  that 
indulge  in  them,  greatly,  in  my  estimation. 

Originally,  the  Louvre  was  not  only  a  house  of  pleasure  for  the 
kings  of  France,  but  a  fortress  for  defense.  Its  ancient  tower  was  Sk- 
mous  in  feudal  times,  and  became  the  great  centre  of  royal  authority. 
Charles  IX.,  Henry  III.  and  IV.,  and  Louis  XIIL,  XIV.,  and  XV., 
contributed  to  its  enlargement  and  embellishment ;  but  for  the  founda- 
tion of  its  present  renown,  it  is  indebted  to  the  E^publican  revolution, 
and  the  genius  of  "  the  Great  Ni^leon."  Its  museums  are  classified 
and  subdivided,  according  to  their  nature,  and  the  greater  or.  smaller 
number  of  halls  or  apartments  they  occupy.  One  division  oompriass 
all  the  sculptures,  distributed  into  two  distinct  daasoH — ancient  and 
modem.  Hie  second  division  comprises  the  paintings  of  all  the  graat 
msaters  of  different  schools. 


LAND  07  IMS  FXKAMSDB,  l«i 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMJDS. 


BY  WA&BEN  I8HAM. 


CHAPTER  XVUl. 

My  captain  mtutinenj  ihevr  character ^  had  to  be  treated  like  children^  yield  orU^  to  Hem 

aulhariUj  a  piti/ui  takj  pmikma  adveniure. 

The  description  of  my  outfit  is  incomplete,  without  some  account  of 
my  captain  and  men,  but  that  could  not  well  be  given  until  I  had  tried 
them. 

Like  children  they  behaved  well  ft  first,  performing  their  duties 
with  great  alacrity,  and,  as  we  were  borne  along  by  a  stiff  breeze,  we 
advanced  rapidly  the  first  day  or  two,  passing  the  pyramids  of  Ghizai 
of  Abousir,  of  Sakhara,  and  Dashour,  towering  b^  intervals  upon  the 
left  bank  of  the  Nile,  a  distance  of  some  sixty  miles,  it  being  my  inten- 
tion to  push  my  way  up,  without  loitering,  five  or  six  hundred  miles,, 
to  the  world-renovmed  ruins  of  Thebes,  as  the^first  stage  in  the  ascent, 
leaving  many  interesting  localities  to  be  explored  on  my  return. 

But  matters  soon  began  to  wear  a  less  promising  aspect.  As  the 
novelty  of  the  thing  passed  away,  my  men  grew  remijss,  and  the  wind 
often  lulled  away,  when  the  boat  liad  to  be  towed  lazily  along,  at  the 
rate  of  a  mile  an  hour,  until  it  freshened  up  again.  This,  however, 
afibrded  me  an  excellent  opportunity  to  explore  the  country.  While 
the'naen  were  towing  the  boat,  it  was  my  privilege  to  climb  the  bank, 
and  nimble  through  the  fields  and  villages,  to  see  the  sights.  In  this 
way  indeed  I  became  pretty  thoroughly  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of 
ni^l  life  in  Egypt,  being  thus  thrown  into  daily  contiict  with  the  Fel« 
hhs,  or  nsasnintry  of  the  country. 

In  spite  of  my  most  ^lergetic  remonstrances,  my  capUun  would 
pendat  in  making  port  at  night,  to  lie  idly  by  until  morning ;  or,  if  I 
9^  up  my  authority,  and  insisted  on  his  taking  advantage  of  a  &vora- 
Ue  wind  to  go  on  after  dark,  he  would  be  sure  to  get  to  sleep  and  run 
tb»  vessel  aground  before  we  had  gone  &r,  and  then  come  to  me  with 
the  pitfful  tale,  that  it  could  not  be  got  off  till  morning,  so  that,  though 


IM  i  LAND  Oy  THE  PYRAMDa 


I  had  men  enough  to  relieve  each  other  every  three  houra  through  the 
night,  I  found  we  lost  more  time  in  the  attempt  to  proceed,  than  to  lie 
lazily  by. 

And  even  in  the  day  time,  they  would  often'get  to  telling  stories  and 
run  the  vessel  fast  aground,  when  all  hands  would  strip  and  plunge  into 
the  Nile  to  boost  her  of!^  making  nothing  of  it,  and  often  seeming  to 
enjoy  the  sport,  like  amphibious  animals.     Much  time  was  thus  lost. 

I  have  spoken  of  exercising  authority,  which  may  sound  out  of  place 
as  coming  from  the  mouth  of  a  passenger,  but  the  necessity  of  it  only 
verifies  the  remark  1  have  already  made,  that  there  is  nothing  in  Egypt 
like  any  thing  I  have  ever  witnessed  before.  These  people  seem  to 
have  no  way  of  estimating  a  man^s  consequence  but  by  the  measure  of 
authority  which  he  exercises  over  them.  I  had  to  throaten  to  bring 
the  captain  before  the  consul  very  often,  to  make  him  good. 

Nor  was  I  deemed  impertinent  in  interfering  with  the  management 
of  the  vessel.  Ours  was  a  swifl  running  craft,  but  observing  one  day 
boat  after  boat  passing  and  shooting  away  from  us,  I  asked  the  captain 
if  our  sails  did  not  want  changing,  to  which  he  replied,  that  they  were 
all  right  But,  as  the  boats  kept  passing  us,  and,  noticing  that  their 
sails  were  adjusted  differently  from  ours,  I  directed  him  rather  author- 
itatively, to  change  them  to  the  same  position — which  he  promptly  did, 
and  no  more  boats  passed  us. 

On  another  occasion  I  ventured  upon  an  exercise  of  authority  verg- 
ing, it  way  be  thought,  upon  presumption,  but  the  exigency  seemed  t^ 
demand  it.  The  call  for  bucksheish^  (present)  was  incessant.  For  a 
time  I  bestowed  it  freely,  but  the  more  I  gave,  the  more  they  asked, 
and  seemed  to  expect,  and  I  thought  it  time  *'  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf'* 
with  them,  not  designing  to  deny  them  utterly,  but  to  tutor  them  to  a 
becoming  reserve  in  their  applications,  and  put  them  upon  their  good 
behavior. 

The  vessel  was  in  port,  and  the  captain  sulkily  refused  to  put  her 
upon  her  course,  until  I  had  complied  with  their  demands,  which  I  was 
equally  determined  not  to  do  at  that  time.  There  was  a  fresh  breeze 
blowing,  and  there  the  vessel  lay ;  the  season  was  wearing  away,  and 
I  had  no  time  to  lose.  Persuasion  was  useless.  I  had  tried  every 
gentle  expedient  in  vain,  and,  after  holding  a  little  council  wiA  myself^ 
1  determined  to  "  try  what  virtue  there  was"  in  harsher  means.  Hold- 
ing a  little  cane  in  my  right  hand,  I  raised  it  threateningly,  and,  fixing 
iny  eye  upon  the  captain's,  ordered  him,  in  a  calm,  decided  tone,  to 
loose  the  vessel  from  her  fastenings,  and  put  her  before  the  wind. 
Instantly  he  did  as  he  was  told,  and,  in  a  moment  we  were  careering 
on  our  way. 


HT  OAFTAIK  AND  MBi^  163 

The  mftD  wlio  tiius  trembkd  in  evety  herve  ct  Uiis  &rcical  displfty 
of  authoiitjy  stood  six  feet  and  a  half  in  his  shoes,  or  would  if  he  had 
had  any,  and  I  would  as  soon  have  grappled  with  a  bear.  But  I  knew 
beforehand  what  he  would  do.«  So  oowed  by  opipn-ession  have  these 
people  beoome,  that  they  have  not  the  spirit  even  of  diildren.  Like 
ehildren  they  become  insolent  by  indulgence,  and  vice  vencu,  quail  under 
the  exercise  of  authority. 

Not  long  after  this,  the  captain  came  to  me  with  the  pitiful  tale,  thai 
they  had  run  out  of  provisions,  and  were  just  ready  to  starve,  aad 
should  starve  to  death,  if  I  did  not  give  them  a  bucksheish  to  buy  pro- 
visions with.  And  to  enforce  the  affecting  appeal,  they  would  make 
excursions  into  the  fields,  and  come  oil  board  with  clover  and  roots, 
which  they  would  take  care  to  chew  in  my  presence,  that  I  might  see 
how  near  they  were  to  starvation,  while  they  were  equally  careful  thai 
I  should  not  see  them  take  their  meals. 

Suspecting  how  the  case  stood,  and,  keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for 
dinner  time,  1  stepped  forward  at  the  lucky  moment,  raised  a  sail  which 
concealed  them  from  view,  and  lo !  there  they  all  sat  around  a  huge 
dish  of  lentils,  with  d'  houra  bread,  onions,  <Sz;c.,  in  great  abundance. 
They  were  a  little  disconcerted  by  the  unexpected  visit,  but  it  cured 
them  of  their  importunities,  and  also  of  their  appetite  for  clover  and 
roots. 

Another  source  of  annoyance  and  delay  arose  from  tln^  extreme 
social  proclivities  of  the  captain  and  crew.  Whenever  they  met  a  fel- 
low Arab,  there  was  a  play  of  social  sympathies  at  once,  and  an  open- 
ing wide  of  the  flood-gates  of  intercommunication,  just  as  though  they 
had  been  old  acquaintances,  long  separated,  and  were  overjoyed  to  see 
eadi  other,  when  in  fact  they  had  never  met  before  in  their  lives,  and 
never  expected  to  again.  My  captain  often  loitered  away  his  time 
with  his  new  made  acquaintances,  when  the  fre^h  wind  was  blowing, 
and  beckoning  us  on  our  way. 

But,  with  all  the  provoking  negligence  of  my  captain,  1  must  do  him 
the  justice  to  say,  that  he  was  very  watchful  of  his  charge.  In  all  my 
excursions,  he  manifested  much  solicitude,  lest  some  evil  diould  befal 
me — ^more,  however,  I  apprehend,  from  having  the  fear  of  the  consul 
before  his  eyes,  than  from  any  affection  for  me.  I  always  went  armed 
with  a  club,  but  still  my  good  friend,  the  captain,  always  kept  an  eye 
on  me,  and  oflen  followed  afler  as  a  soit  of  body  guard. 

I  had  generally  been  very  venturesome,  but,  on  one  occasion,  I  oame 
so  near  getting  into  trouble,  that  I  became  more  wai^y.  I  had  wan- 
dered a  considerable  distance  firom  the  boat,  nor  did  I  know  that  the 
capiain  was  any  where  >nthin  haiMng  distance,  when  1  tutt  aa  Axmb 


M4  LAUD  or  THS  FWMJmfi- 


iiMk  wboia  I  axoiiaiiged  salutataona,  upo&  vUdi )»  ^ymo^  ri^up 
iomey  so  near,  tJiat  I  oould  not  uae mj  dub, and  I  jumped aoro^f  m 
wide  ditoh,  and  he  after  me,  and  hy  die  time  he  waa  UiHj  oyer,  I  waa 
leadj  to  apriiig  back  again,  and  juat  at  that  moment  the  captain  mad* 
hia  appearanoe,  bawling  out  luatily,  aa  though  aomething  awM  want 
going  to  befid  me.  The  Arab  riui  away,  and  the  captain  came  up  t» 
me  in  great  trepidation,  upbraiding  me  severely  for  ventunog  awi^ 
so  fitr  alone,  and  assuring  me,  that  in  a  moment  more  the  feUow  would 
have  disarmed  me,  and  had  me  in  his  power. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


perience — Figeont  and  Pigeon  Bouses —  Girls  wUh  their  Pitchars  of  WcUer. 

A  world  by  itself,  as  Egypt  certainly  is,  scarcely  less  so  is  each  di- 
vision  of  it ;  insomuch,  that  the  tourist,  who  has  stumbled  upon  oddi- 
ties, at  every  step,  in  Lower  Egypt  and  enters  upon  his  trip  up  the 
Nile,  supposing  that  he  has  seen  them  all,  find^them,  to  his  surprise^ 
thickening  upon  him  at  every  turn,  as  be  ascends,  and  of  a  type  aa 
diverse  from  those  be  has  seen  below,  as  the  latter  are  from  the  com- 
mon-place objects  of  other  countries. 

The  water  wheel,  with  its  revolving  buckets,  dipping  and  pouring, 
in  ceaseless  evolution,  gives  place  to  the  "  crotch  and  sweep  " — not 
the  majestic  sweep,  suc^  as  used  to  tower  over  the  wells  of  our  an- 
cestors, whose  place  (O  tenipora !)  has  been  supplied  by  liie  pump 
handle — ^nor  such,  indeed,  as  points  towards  heaven,  from  the  decks  of 
their  own  Nile  boats ;  a  single  one  of  which,  if  properly  pivoted  and 
poised,  would  avail  to  raise  the  water  of  the  Nile  at  a  lift — ^but  tiny 
sweeps,  consisting  of  a  ecra^y  limb  of  a  tree,  ten  or  twelve  feet  long, 
and  often  spliced  at  that — ^such  as  are  sometimes  erected  \fy  a  truant 
boy  for  pastime — ^not  mounted  upon  the  noble  "  crotch,"  but  suspend- 
ed by  a  string  firom  a  cross-bar,  only  four  or  five  feet  high,  which  rests, 
at  each  end,  upon  an  abutment  or  prop  of  dried  clay,  or  a  mnsli  up- 
right fragment  of  a  tree.  Thus  poised,  the  big  end  of  the  sweep  pro- 
jects back  not  more  than  two  feet,  terminating  in  a  huge  globe  of  sun- 
burnt day,  as  a  bucket-lifter,  lliis  contrivance  is  in  use  in  parts 
of  Lower  Egypt,  but  not  as  an  elevator  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Nile. 

It  requirea  three  or  fbur  and  sometimea  fire  of  these  little  bits  of 
aweepa,  one  above  anather  (each  receding  a  tittle),  to  raise  the  water 
from  the  Nile  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  aaohi  one  elevating  it  four  or 


WjkTKE  uirnro.  i«s 


five  jfeet  to  a  reservoir,  from  which  it  to  taken  by  tiie  next  aboTe  anS 
niaed  aa  much  higher,  the  nptpetnioBt  one  ituting  it  to  tlie  troagh, 
whidi  ooaduoti  it  off  into  the  field. 

The  bucket  is  generally  a  skin,  with  a  hoo{>,  to  give  it  fbnn  at  the 
topb  Of  oourae  it  cannot  be  operated  to  advantage  as  you  would  oper- 
abe  an  old  oaken  bucket,  and  yet,  though  twice  as  large,  it  is  brought 
ap  dripping  full  at  every  lift,  and  to  a  tune  to  which  ^e  madnne  just 
meuliotied  could  never  be  made  to  move.  As  it  descends,  it  is  s^lnuig 
a  Htfele  to  one'  side,  from  a  right  line,  and,  just  before  it  reaches  tiha 
wMer,  it  is  brought  back  so  as  to  scoop  it'brimftil,  just  as  you  would 
scoop  up  a  dishful.  I  have  stood,  watch  in  hand,  and  seen  twenty 
buckets  ftdl  thus  scooped  up  in  a  minute,  by  a  single  machine,  meannif 
by  this  term,  crotch  and  sweep,  man,  bucket  and  all.  Sometime^  for 
the  sake  of  ecc^omy,  there  are  two  sweeps  to  a  single  cross-bar. 

There  is  often  a  set  of  sweeps  thus  rising,  one  above  another,  e^rwf 
quarter  of  a  mUe,  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  sometimes  for  a  great 
distance,  so  that  we  had  them  multiplied  upon  us  on  the  ri|^t  hand 
and  on  tbe  left,  before  us  and  behind  us,  at  all  times  of  the  day.  And 
a  apeotade  it  truly  is  to  see  them  all  moving  to  the  loud  strains  of  th^ 
Operalfors,  which,  meeting  and  mingling,  swell  into  a  ehoiiis  diat  f6<> 
kmnds  through  the  Valley  of  the  Nile.  Nor  less  a  sight  is  it  to  He^ 
their  naked  bodies  (all  naked  exc^t  round  the  waisty— observe  t^eil" 
^mmetrical  forms,  and  witntos  th^r  elastic  movements,  theit  sinewy 
iiaiBeles  taking  turns  at  t^eir  task,  as  they  are  brought  ihto  play  iA 
lowering  and  elevating  the  buckets. 

From  the  trough  tiie  water  flows  out  in  a  main  raiscM)  channel,  tA  I 
have  d«acribed,  which  soon  branches  off  in  different  directions,  and  th^ 
irllola  surfiice  of  the  field  being  divided  off  into  beds  or  squares,  My 
ton  to  twenty  fhet  each  way^  with  raised  edges  or  little  embankments, 
till  round  tiiem,  the  flowing  tide  is  let  into  them,  one  after  atiothel*, 
and  the  m<»sture  is  thus  equalized. 

And  tttia  in  parts  of  Lower  or  Northern  Egypt,  a  sihgle  blinds 
oic  (a  little  creature  that  passes  for  an  oic,)  performs  the  labor  iii 
devating  the  water  of  the  Nile,  whidi  requires  the  service  of  thr^  t6 
five  men,  ih  Middle  and  Upper  Egypt.  This  looks  as  though  the  )at^ 
ter  wei^  severai  centuries  behind  the  former  in  improvement,  bUt 
%hen  it  is  considered  what  cheap  things  men  are  in  £gypt,  it  is  difficult 
to  say  on  which  side  the  advantage  lies.  Of  how  much  more  value  iik 
H  man  tiian  an  ox-^said  the  Saviour,  but  here  the  interrogatory  sei^mi 
to  be  reversed.  ^ 

'  Another  new  and  interesting  phase  meets  the  eye  in  ascending  the 
fIBe,  ih  the  vastly  improved  appearance  of  the  rural  villages,  a^  seen 


»6  LAND  09  THB  PTBAIflDa 


firom  the  river.  What  more  delight&l  prospeot  oan  be  presented,  in 
an  almost  treeless  land,  than  beautiful  groves  set  with  duatering  domeo^ 
and  looming  upon  the  vision,  at  intervals,  from  the  rlEdng  grounds  on 
which  they  are  located  1 

These  beauty  spots  operate  like  a  charm  in  the  distance,  but  it  is 
only  in  the  distance  that  the  illusion  is  to  be  enjoyed.  Aa  you  draw 
near,  the  enchantment  vanishes  away,  the  reality  opens  upon  you,  aad^ 
perchance,  comes  up  into  your  nostrils.  You  did  not  see  the  town  at 
all — ^nothing  but  the  trees  and  the  pigeon  houses,  the  mud  huts  of  the 
inhabitants  being  so  low  and  insignificant  that  you  did  not  even  get  a 
glimpse  of  them — mere  mud  pens,  sLx,  eight,  or  ten  feet  square^  hav- 
ing the  bare  ground  for  a  floor,  and  covered  often  with  'dhoura  straw, 
thrown  loosely  over  the  top,  with  a  hole  upon  one  side  to  crawl  in — 
perfect  bee  hives,  swarming  with  human  beings,  espedally  in  some 
localities. 

And  they  are  filthy  to  match.  Lizzards  are  often  se^  darting 
about  their  exterior,  while  the  sin^e  interior  apartment  is  all  alive 
with  that  nimble  little  creature,  whose  whereaboute  has  never  yel 
been  discovered,  to  say  nothing  of  more  slow-paced,  shabby  donouesF- 
fics.  In  illustration  of  the  general  undeanness  which  reigns  within, 
I  will  relate  a  bit  of  my  own  experience.  Having  been  told  that  I 
could  get  goat's  milk  in  abundance,  at  the  villages  to  put  in  oofiee,  I 
despatched  a  man  for  a  bottle  of  it,  but  feeling  some  miagivings  about 
the  region  of  the  stomach,  I  followed  after.  Falling  in  with  a  girl 
bearing  a  pitcher  of  water  from  the  river,  I  tiiought  1  would  teat  her 
social  accessibility,  and  so  I  qu<«tioned  her,  in  my  broken  way,  about 
the  milk,  when  she  said,  with  a  sort  of  half  smile  and  half  leer,  **  Aio 
(aaia — ^Yes,  come  with  me.^'  Arriving  at  the  hut,  the  mother  waa 
called  out,  and,  our  wants  being  made  known,  she  crawled  in,  and  in  a 
moment  more,  came  crawling  out  again,  through  the  low  aperture,  with 
ah  earthen  jar  of  milk  in  her  hands,  her  two  thumbs  being  clasped 
inside  and  her  eight  fingers  outside  of  it.  The  rim  of  it  wa^beamear- 
ed  with  dirt,  in  which  goat's  hair  was  deeply  imbedded.  It, waa 
banded  to  the  damsel  jK>  pour  out,  and  with  her  eight  dirty  fingers 
planted  inside,  and  her  two  thumbs  outside,  she  commenced  the  opera- 
tion, and,  as  the  milk  ran  over  the  rim  of  the  vessel,  it  became  turbid 
and  discolored,  by  the  alluvium  which  it  swept  away  with  it  over  the 
little  cataract  Augh  \  I  paid  the  price,  gave  the  milk  to  my  Arabs 
(a  perfect  God-send  to  them)  and  was  henceforth  satisfied  to  drink  my 
coffee  without  milk. 

But  those  pigeon  houses — it  is  wonderful  to  see  the  contrast  between 
the  low,  shabby  dwellings  of  the  people  and  these  palatial  dove-cotepi, 


PIGBONS^  THB  BROKBN  FITCEEB.  16t 

towexmg  from  their  midst,  often  surmounted  with  beauti^l  domes 
ornamented  with  designs.  It  is  said,  that  in  some  parts  of  Upper 
E^gTpt,  every  young  man  is  required,  as  an  indispensible  preparatory 
step  to  matrimony,  to  possess  himself  of  a  dove-cote. .  This  is  where 
the  land  is  too  high  to  be  overflowed.  Those  who  undertand  the  re- 
semblance of  pigeon  manure  to  guano,  will  be  able  to  appreciate  the 
wisdom  of  such  a  regulation.  They  also  supply  an  occasional  grajbe- 
fiil  morsel  to  the  poor  peasant. 

These  birds  generally  resemble  our  wild  pigeons,  though  often  they 
are  more  like  our  domestic  doves.  They  are  seen  in  great  numbers 
in  the  fields,  along  the  river  banks,  and  are  frequently  shot  for  game 
by  travellers  ascending  the  Nile.  I  have  oflen  seen  them  darkening 
the  air  around  their  magnificent  cotes,  reminding  me  strongly  of  the 
beautifiil  imagery  of  the  prophet,  i*"  As  clouds  and  as  doves  to  their 
windows." 

Sometimes  the  villages  are  located  a  little  back,  and,  as  the  first 
indication  of  their  existence,  you  observe  a  covey  of  young  girls,  clad 
in  coarse,  dirty,  tattered  raiment,  with  tattoed  faces,  set  off,  perhaps, 
with  ringlets  and  eardrops,  descending  the  bank  with  their  huge  pitch- 
ers or  water  pots,  wading  into  the  river  deep  enough  to  dip  them  full, 
and  then,  after  aiding  each  other  in  elevating  them  to  their  cushioned 
heads,  making  the  ascent  (often  steep  and  slippery),  only  by  placing 
each  foot  always  in  the  same  indenture. 

The  bottom  of  this  vessel  is  oval  or  egg-like,  while  it  bilges  out 
hugely  in  the  middle,  and  terminates  in  a  narrow  neck  at  the  top, 
with  a  handle  on  each  side.  The  point  which  rests  upon  the  head 
(centre  of  gravity,)  is  upon  the  sides,  say  six  inches  from  the  bot- 
tom end,  giving  it  an  oblique  position,  like  the  pole  of  the  earth. 
These  vessels  contain  three,  four  and  five  gallons  each,  and  yet  girls 
eight,  ten  and  twelve  years  old,  will  balance  the  tottering  things  thus 
poised,  without  touching  a  finger  to  them,  as  they  would  ascend  a 
steep  which  i  could  scarcely  climb  pitoherless  and  unencumbered— 
and  asc^d,  too,  chattering  and  cackling  as  they  go. 

On  one  occasion,  two  girls  set  their  pitchers  down  when  they  arrived 
at  the  top  of  the  bank,  and  as  they  were  engaged  in  a  brisk  conversa- 
tion, one  of  the  rotary  things  started,  of  its  own  accord,  and  rolled 
Itself  back  down  the  bank,  breaking  in  pieces  in  the  descent.  The 
poor  girl  looked  intently  after  it,  but,  with  the  stoicism  of  a  true 
Moslem,  not  showing  the  slightest  emotion.  After  standing  motion- 
less  a  moment,  she  raised  both  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven,  uttered  what 
seemed  a  pious  ejaculation,  and  then,  descending,  filled  the  bottom 
part  of  the  broken  vessel  with  water  and  bore  it  away  homeward.     I 


Itt  LAND  OP  THE  PYRAMIDS. 

#■— *<— ^— —       I        ■■      I  ■  1  ■     ■     ^  I     .iMi^  ■    ■  ■  ^Km^tm-mmmm^^^^^mm^frnm^^m^^^ 

liAve  been  often  thus  reminded  of  the  Old  Testament  damsds,  wliO06 
lot  it  waA  to  perform  similar  household  duties,  using  the  same  kind  <^ 
vessel  and  carrying  it,  doubtless,  in  the  same  manner. 

I  should  perhaps,  add,  again,  that  the  above  description  refers  more 
especially  to  t&e  rural  villages,  there  being,  occasionidly,  a  oommerdftl 
town  along  the  Nile,  with  houses  of  unbumt  brick,  which  presaits  a 
somewhat  different  aspect ;  thoui^h,  as  to  the  essentials  of  vencmn  and 
iUth,  there  is  but  little  to  choose. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

8t0ht8  on  Vte  ime— Pottery  piled  upon  U-^The  Pbttef^s  WkeO-^Sarihenwan  4n 
JBffypi — Hi  Extraordinary  Properties — Straw — Scripture  Ithutratkm. 

The  north  wind,  while  it  bore  us  on  our  way,  opposed  an  irresistible 
obstacle  to  all  vessels  coming  down  under  sail.  Vessels,  however, 
laden  with  the  products  of  Middle  and  Upper  Egypt,  were  constantly 
passing  us,  all  dismasted,  so  as  to  present  as  little  resistance  as  possi* 
Ue  to  the  wind,  their  naked  hulls  drifting  with  the  current  at  the  rate 
of  forty  miles  a  day.  The  cargoes  most  conspicuous  to  view  were 
those  of  pottery  and  straw. 

The  pottery,  however,  constitutes  both  boat  and  cargo,  and,  in  this 
double  eapacity,  is  quite  a  little  curiosity.  To  set  it  afloat,  the  large 
earthen  jars  are  listened  together,  bottom  upwards,  on  the  surface  of 
the  water,  to  form  a  float.  Being  thus  filled  with  air,  they  will  bear 
up  an  immense  weight  without  sinkii^,  and  one  tier  is  piled  upon 
another,  until  a  cargo  larger  than  cpuld  be  stowed  upon  any  boat,  is 
accumulated.  If  need  be,  the  second  and  every  succeeding  tier,  may 
be  also  inverted,  though,  generally,  I  believe,  the  bottom  one  does  not 
sink  below  the  sur&ce.  These  stacks  of  pottery,  thus  piled  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  Nile,  are  floated  hundreds  of  miles,  to  their  destination^ 
in  perfect  safety.  In  case  of  a  blow,  it  is  easy  for  them  to  take  refuge 
in  a  sheltered  place. 

Egypt  seems  to  have  been  pre-eminent  for  its  pottery  from  a  very 
early  period  of  its  history,  as  the  fragmentary  remams  of  it,  every- 
where conspicuous,  amid  the  ruins  of  ancient  splendor,  abundantly 
prove.  And,  what  is  remarkable,  that  ingenious  device,  the  potter's 
wheel,  the  operation  of  which  I  have  witnessed,  with  absorbing  inter- 
est, in  our  own  country,  is  the  same  in  construction  with  the  one  I 
have  often  seen  in  operation  upon  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  and  both  are 
as  identical  with  a  machine  of  the  kind  I  have  seen  portrayed  upon  the 
walls  of  the  tombs  painted  three  thousand  years  ago,  as  though  they 


B&tPTIAN  POTTERY.  m 


hlid  been  patterned  from  it.  Tliat  Egypt  possessed  this  improvement 
Ht  that  early  day,  is  thus  made  manifest,  and  the  same  thing  is  evident 
from  the  form  of  its  ancient  pottery. 

It  was  here,  undoubtedly,  that  the  Israelites  learned  an  art  which 
ha^  furnished  some  of  the  most  striking  imagery  employed  by  both 
prophets  and  apostles.  ^^  We  are  the  clay  and  thou  art  our  potter, 
and  we  all  are  the  work  of  thy  hands,''  says  the  prophet,  and  who  is 
not  familiar  with  the  illustrations  of  the  apostle,  drawn  from  the  same 
Source? 

So  natural  and  sti-iking  is  the  analogy  between  the  work  of  the  cre- 
ator in  moulding  the  body  of  the  first  man,  and  that  of  the  potter  at 
his  wheel,  moulding  the  shapeless  mass  before  him  into  form,  that  it 
commended  itself  to  the  notice  of  the  Egyptian  priests,  anterior  to 
the  use  made  of  it  in  the  scripture.  Upon  the  walls  of  a  temple  here, 
erected  some  three  thousand  years  ago,  is  represented  a  god,  with 
body  and  limbs  in  the  human  form,  surmounted  by  a  ram's  head,  in 
the  act  of  turning,  with  his  foot,  the  potter's  wheel,  while  his  hands 
are  employed  in  fashioning  a  lump  of  day,  revolving  upon  it,  into 
form.  From  the  hieroglyphic  inscription  surmounting  it,  "  Knum, 
the  Creator,"  6ic.,  lias  been  made  out. 

Earthenware  is  still  in  extensive  use  by  the  peasantry  of  Egypt,  as 
it  was  in  the  days  of  the  Pharaohs.  The  entire  furniture'  of  their 
earthy  huts  consists  of  a  few  earthen  dishcfs,  and  one  or  two  earthen 
water  pots-r-that  is  all. 

It  is  also  in  extensive  use  in  the  large  towns,  for  domestic  purposes, 
and  in  extensive  use  everywhere,  for  water  pots,  bottles  and  pitchers^ 
on  account  of  the  extraordinary .  property  claimed  for  it  as  a  water 
cooler.  In  the  large  English  hotel  in  Cairo,  which  is  furnished  in  good 
European  style,  water  is  always  set  upon  the  table  in  coarse,  ugly 
looking,  earthen  bottles,  the  sight  of  which  is  repulsive  enough,  but 
the  many  cool,  refreshing  draughts  I  took  from  them,  were  just  so 
many  drafts  upon  my  regards  in  their  favor  and  I  covld  not  help  Hk* 
ing  them.  1  found,  by  my  own  experience,  that  while  water  will  very 
soon  become  warm  and  unfit  to  drink,  in  the  thickest  glass  bottfes,  it 
will  keep  cool  for  hours  in  these  ill  looking  recptacles,  even  when  ex- 
posed to  a  hot  sun.  The  effect  is  due  of  course  to  the  chemically  non- 
conducting property  of  the  day. 

But  there  is  an  additional  extraordinary  property  claimed  for  the 
ware  manu&ctui-ed  in  a  particular  locality,  Kenneh,  in  Middle  Egypt, 
which  is  &mous  for  the  extent  of  its  potteries.  To  the  vessels  made 
from  the  clay  in  that  vicinity,  is  ascribed  a  savory  perfume,  whidk 
gives  to  water  an  aromatic  flavor,  highly  grateful  to  the  taste,  and  the 


IfO  LAND  OF  THB  PTEAMID& 

ware  manufactured  at  that  point,  actually  commands  a  higher  price  in 
the  market,  on  account  of  this  supposed  extraordinary  property ;  a 
property,  by  the  way,  which*  my  sense  of  taste  is  not  sufficiently  re- 
fined to  detect  i 

The  clay  best  adapted  to^  pottery  or  any  other  use,  is  to  be  looked 
for,  of  course,  back  toward  the  outer  edges  of  the  valley,  as  the  deposit 
near  the  river  bank  is  sandy,  while  the  finer  particles  which  form  the 
constituents  of  clay,  not  being  so  readily  precipitated,  are  held  longer 
in  suspension,  float  farther  from  the  channel  with  the  overflowing  tide, 
and  are  deposited  in  the  comparatively  still  water  near  the  ledges. 

I  said  pottery  and  straw — there  is  no  end  to  the  cargoes  of  wheat 
straw  (chopped)  which  float  down  the  Nile.  At  Old  Cairo,  I  strolled 
one  day  past  an  immense  yard  piled  full  of  it.  It  is  the  great  straw 
market,  where  cargoes  fi'om  up  the  Nile  unlade.  Camels  were  con- 
stantly passing  in  and  out,  loaded  down  with  it ;  some  delivering  \\ 
firom  the  vessels,  and  others  taking  it  away  for  private  use. 

It  is  for  fodder,  and  especially  for  camels,  that  it  becomes  so  import- 
ant an  article  of  commerce.  The  camel  is  always  like  himself,  a  crea- 
ture of  the  desert.  The  sweet  nourishing  hay,  so  much  to  the  taste  of 
other  animals,  is  poor  picking  for  him — compared  with  it,  he  esteenis 
straw  a  real  luxury,  for  it  approximates  much  nearer  in  character  to 
the  prickly  shrubs  which  he  crops  with  so  much  zest,  from  his  native 
sands. 

Hie  thought  struck  me  that  this  might  fiirnish  a  key  to  the  mystery 
involved  in  the  complaint  of  the  Israelitish  bondsmen,  that^they  were 
required  "  To  make  brick  without  straw."  This  seems  to  have  been 
regarded  by  them  as  a  grievous  hardship ;  but  if,  as  is  gonarally  sup- 
posed, the  straw  was  needed  to  mix  with  the  clay,  it  was  no  hardship 
at  all,  for  what  concern  was  it  to  the  bondman,  if  his  master  chose 
to  have  it  lefl  out  rather  than  to  furnish  it  ?  And  besides,  there  is  no 
better  clay  in  the  world,  for  brick  than  is  to  be  found  along  this  val- 
ley, and  it  is  of  the  same  quality  now  as  when  the  Israelites  bowed 
themselves  to  \heir  task,  and  of  course  there  was  no  necessity  for 
straw  to  mix  with  it.  They  were  not  required  to  perform  an  impos- 
sibility, or  to  do  what  was  thus  rendered  muc^  more  difficult  and 
oppressive,  for  they  could  make  brick  as  well  without  straw  as  with  it. 

But  though  clay  was  abundant  and  of  good  quality,  it  was  to  be 
looked  for  as  I  have  already  said,  at  a  distance  from  the  river,  and  near 
the  outer  edge  of  the  valley,  to  which  the  finer  particles,  which  form 
day,  are  borne  with  the  flowing  tide,  while  the  coarser  and  heavier 
particles  are  thrown  down  sooner.  It  is  plain,  then,  that  camels  were 
needed  in  the  operation,  first  to  transport  the  clay  to  the  river  bank, 


STORT  TBLLING.  171 


and  then  to  transport  the  water  from  the  river  to  the  briekyard.  And 
it  is  equally  plain,  that  fodder  was  necessary  for  the  camels,  and  if  the 
straw  was  not  furnished  for  their  sustenance,  they  might  just  as  well 
have  been  without  them ;  and  if,  for  lack  of  fodder,  camels  could  nof 
be  employed,  and,  as  a  consequence,  their  places  had  to  be  supplied  by 
the  bondmen,  that  would  be  a  grievous  hardship  indeed,  and  well 
might  they  complain,  bitterly,  as  they  did.  ^ 

I  will  simply  add,  that  this  being  the  country  where  the  manners, 
customs  and  domestic  habits  of  the  Israelites  were  formed,  and  with 
which  they  always  had  considerable  intercourse,  almost  as  many 
things  meet  the  observation  here  to  illustrate  the  pages  of  scripture 
history,  as  in  Palestine  itself.  Not  a  day  passes  without  presenting 
me  with  objects  suggestive  of  some  phase  of  sacred  story,  and  remind? 
ing  me  that  I  am  in  one  of  the  "  Lands  of  the  Bible." 


CHAPTER  XXL 

Story  of  Btmchback. 

My  captain  and  luen,  in  common  with  their  countrymen  in  general, 
spent  much  of  their  time  in  story  telling,  collecting  in  little  squads 
upon  the  deck,  each  taking  his  turn  in  entertiuning  the  company. 
While  thns  engaged,  as  I  have  said,  they  would  otten  run  the  vessel 
aground,  perhaps  right  in  the  midst  of  a  nierry  laugh ;  and  sometimes^ 
sifter  having  to^ed  in  the  water  up  to  their  necks,  to  get  her  afloat^ 
they  would  run  her  into  the  sand  a  second  time,  before  &  single  story 
was  ended,  when  the  same  scene  had  to  be  acted  over. 

Sometimes  I  would  linger  within  hearing,  and  slily  participate  in  the 

entertainment.    I  could  not,  of  course,  with  the  scanty  stock  of  Arabic 

I  had  acquired  since  1  had  been  in  the  country,  spell  out  the  oitire  ^t 
of  their  stories,  but  I  could  often  understand  enough  to  interest  my 

curiosity.  On  one  occasion,  particularly,  I  became  so  much  interested* 
that  I  requested  the  narrator  to  repeat  his  tale  two  or  three  times^ 
and  thus,  with  some  collateral  help,  I  completely  mastered  it,  and  I 
congratulate  myself  upon  being  able  here  to  give  a  copy  of  it  in  Eng- 
lish. It  is  scarcely  excelled  in  unique  drollery  by  the  best  in  the 
"  Arabian  Night^s  EnteitainmentB,"  and  it  has  the  same  general  char- 
acteristics of  humor  and  wit,  without  the  slightest  regard  to  probability 
in  the  incidents  of  the  narrative,  an  extravagance  which  seems  to  per- 
vade all  Eastern  tales. 

"  About  four  Malagas  from  Tanta,"  "  commenced  he,  "  is  the  vilr 
lage  of  asses.    The  people  there  are  so  stupid  that  they  cannot  count 


tiieir  own  feet.  But  one  man  in  die  place  ever  progressed  no  fiur  as 
that  in  the  science  of  numbers,  and  he  bedame  so  &mous  that  pilgrha- 
ages  are  made  to  his  tomb.  The  whole  town  once  lay  a-bed  all  daj^ 
thinking  the  sun  had  not  risen,  because  the  Mue^in  had  the  sore  throat 
and  cotdd  not  call  them  to  prayers. 

**  One  day,  as  a  woman  of  the  village  of  asses  was  going  for  a  pitcher 
of  water,  she  saw  something  under  a  palm  tree,  and  she  thought  sh^ 
would  run,  but  she  saw  that  it  had  arms,  and  legs,  and  a  head,  bnt  was 
hunchbacked  and  deformed,  and  she  could  think  of  nothing  to  liken  it 
to,  and  she  thought  it  was  brought  there  by  the  birds,  and  so  she  came 
and  sat  down  by  its  side  and  said  '  Little  crooked  thing,  wh^oe  oom- 
68t  thou  1 '  And  he  said  '  Hak ! '    And  she  shook  him  again,  and  said, 

•  Oh,  most  wonderful !  Who  art  thou,  and  what  is  thy  name  1 '  And 
he  said  '  Hak,  Hak ! '  And  she  said,  '  I  will  adopt  him  for  the  drol- 
lery of  his  name.*  « 

'*  Hunchback  grew  up  to  be  a  man,  and  became  as  &mous  for  the 
oddity  of  his  mind  as  for  that  of  his  person,  and  eventually  he  rose 
to  great  distinction  in  the  village  of  asses,  for  his  superior  wisdom. 
But  the  honors  heaped  upon  him  by  the  simple  people  around  him 
V  made  him  ambitious  and  vain,  and  he  said  '  I  will  go  to  the  great  xity 
of  Cairo,  to  seek  my  fortune ; '  And  so,  with  two  dozen  fowls  and  what 
else  he  could  pack  upon  an  aaa,  he  started  on  his  way. 

'*  Arriving  in  Oairo^  he  met  a  man,  who  said  to  him,  *'  O,  fSA^ 
Hak !  I  have  heard  diat  the  people  of  Kaffir  Hemmir  believe  that  dl 
wifldom  QOttmsts  in  a  long  beard ;  sell  me  your  fowls  and  I  will  gilf% 
you  a  oosmetio  which  will  make  the  beard  grow  long  in  a  nighl^ 
And  80  Hak-Hak  sold  hbn  his  fowls,  and,  reoeiviDg  the  cosikMtie  m 
return,  hastened  back  to  the  village  of  asses  to  prodaim  it6  virtttte. 
And,  as  a  drier  went  through  the  streets,  he  lifted  up  his  vdee  a^  said 

*  O  ye  people  of  Kaffiir  Hemmir,  come  and  buy  a  oosmetio,  whieh  will 
ttiake,tiie  beard  grow  long  in  a  night;'  andso  great  was  the  joy  of  the 
illhikbitants,  that  tihey  ran  against  one  another,  as  they  hastened  to  got 
a  supply  of  tlie  precious  drug,  while  it  lasted ;  and  before  night  Ms 
Iriiole  stock  iti  trade  was  gone. 

*^!rhe  people  of  the  village  of  asses  all  dreamed  of  being  in  pana* 
Aise  ttiat  ni^ht,  and  of  having  every  wish  graiafted,  as  soon  as  it  r6ie 
In  tbeir  minds.  But  motiung  broke,  and  lo !  the  beards  of  the  tiixii 
all  dropped  off,  and  their  wives  set  up  sudi  a  laugh  at  their  expense,  thit 
they  all  ran  away  to  get  out  of  sight ;  but,  jostling  agsunst  each  Other 
as  they  ran,  and  seeing  that  all  were  in  the  same  plight,  they  tecii 
oeurage  and  eonduded  to  go  bade  and  make  the  best  of  it ;  and  they 
Ul  retttrned  to  their  hoos^. 


I 


HUHOHBAGIL  lU 

^^  Ntg^t  4»y  the  people  of  the  villAge  of  asses  held  a  great  coiinciI| 
to  determiiie  wh^  lAiould  be  done  with  Hak-Hak,  who  had  brought  so 
great  a  disgrace  upon  them.  For  a  tune  the  council  was  greasy  di- 
vided in  opinion,  some  advising  one  thing  and  some  another ;  but  at 
length  it  W9fi  proposed  to  sack  Urn  and  throw  him  into  the  Nile,  and 
41  the  people  of  Kaffir  Ilemmir  said  ^  Amen ! '  > 

And  they  sacked  him  and  put  him  on  an  ass,  and  gave  him  in  charge 
to  a  keeper  to  do  to  him  as  the  cdQnoil  had  determined.  And  Us 
keeper  journeyed  on  with  him  until  it  was  time  to  feed ;  and  he  Ux)k 
the  sack  apd  Laid  it  down  by  the  path,  and,  while  the  ass  was  feeding, 
he  laid  himself  down  and  fell  asleep ;  and  as  he  slept,  a  shepherd  came 
along  with  a  flock  of  sheep,  and,  seeing  the  sack,  and  through  a  hole 
in  it,  an  eye,  great  fear  fell  upon  him,  for  he  had  never  seen  a  sack 
with  an  eye  before.  And  he  said,  '  O  sack !  tell  me,  what  meaneth 
this? '  And  the  eye  became  a  mouth,  and  said,  ^  I  am  Hak-IIak !  I 
was  eommaD4ed  to  go  and  marry  the  Sultan's  daughter,  and  because  I 
9efil^ed,  they  have  put  me  in  this  sack,  and  are  compelling  me  to  go.' 
And  the  shepherd  said  ^  O,  Hak-IIak,  how  gladly  would  1  exchange 
places  with  thee ! '  And  he  untied  the  sack  and  Hak-Hak  jumped  out 
and  he  jumped  in,  and  so  delighted  was  he  with  his  change  of  circum- 
stances, that  he  gave  Hak-IIak  his  flock  of  sheep.  • 

"  The  next  day  the  villagers  were  struck  with  great  fear  to  see  Hak- 
Hak  coming  into  town  driving  a  flock  of  sheep,  for  they  supposed  ho 
was  risen  from  the  dead,  and  had  come  back  to  punish  them,  and  they 
all  ran  away ;  and  Hak-Hak  lifted  up  his  voice  and  said,  ^  Ye  people 
of  Kaffir  Hemmir,  why  do  you  run  away  ?  Come  back  to  your  houses.' 
And  Ihey  ran  ^so  much  the  faster. 

Meantime,  Abdallah,  awaking  out  of  sleep*  had  replaced  the  sack 
upon  the  ass,  and  journeyed  on.  Arriving  at  the  Nile,  he  threw  it  in, 
with  the  exclamation,  '  Into  the  hands  of  the  prophet  I  commit  thee, 
O  Hak.Hak ! ' 

^  Returning  to '  the  village  of  asses,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  lo, 
there  was  Hak-Hak  and  the  people  all  running  away,  and  he  was 
afraid,  and  ran  away  too,  and  they  ran  all  night  without  stopping,  sup- 
posing  that  Hak-Hak  was  after  them. 

**  But  Hak-Hak  was  not  so  foolish — ^while  the  people  were  running, 
he  went  into  their  houses  and  ate  the  good  things  they  had  left  behind. 
Hie  next  day  he  sent  a  messenger,  who  cried  aloud  and  said,  ^  O  ye 
people  of  KalBr  Hemmir,  this  is  the  message  that  I  bring  unto  you ; 
that  ye  jpve  to  Hak-Hak  your  dan^ters  in  marriage,  and  he  will  be 
at  peace  with  you — do  this  and  come  back  to  your  houses.'    And  » 


114  LAND  OP  THE  PYRAMID& 


the  people  of  the  village  of  asses  recovered  from  their  fright,  gave 
tlieir  daughters  in  marriage  to  Hak-Hak,  and  went  back  to  tlieir  houses.** 

I  will  add,  that  I  have  since  seen  some  fragments  of  this  story,  a 
very  imperfect  version  of  only  a  part  of  it,  in  print,  as  narrated  by 
an  English  traveller,  who  doubtless  derived  it  from  a  similar  souroe. 
There  is  no  end  to  tSe  funny  things  that  may  be  culled  from  the  con- 
versational droppings  which  are  continually  falling  upon  the  ear  here. 
The  above  is  but  a  specimen  of  the  innumerable  tales,  of  a  kindred 
character,  whi6h  every  one,  who  is  at  the  pains,  may  gather  up  and 
preserve.  They  have  professional  story-tellers,  whose  special  bunnesa 
it  is  to  spin  "  yarns  *'  of  this  sort,  for  entertainment,  at  social  gather- 
ings, especially  at  coffee  houses. 

The  scene  of  the  above  is  laid  in  the  Delta,  Tanta  being  about  mid- 
way between  the  two  branches  of  the  Nile.  It  is  famous  for  the  semi- 
annual pilgrimages  made  to  it  in  honor  of  an  eminent  saint  sepulchred 
there.  Tiie  great  pilgrim  army  assembled  at  his  tomb,  every  six 
months,  is  said  to  amount  to  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  persons,  many 
of  them  from  afar.  A  gre^it  fair  is  held  by  the  devotees  at  the  same 
time. 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Interview  wiQi  Egyptian  Ladies — Spinning  Cotton — Ndt>el   Mode — CoUon  as  a  IVo 
'  dud — Uie  Men  of  Egypt — Their  Oha/rackir  and  Habiit. 

Scarcely  did  I  enter  a  cotton  field  upon  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  with- 
out scaring  up  women,  who  ran  like  deer  at  my  approach.  I  did  not 
so  much  wonder  at  their  running,  as  that  they  should  be  there  at  all. 
There  were  no  signs  of  their  having  been  employed  in  pidiing  cotton, 
though  the  boUes  were  open,  and  the  crop  of  course,  mature.  I  noticed 
however,  that  each  seemed  to  have  something  in  one  hand  as  she  nuu 

Luckily,  I  came  upon  a  brace  of  them  unobserved,  and,  lo,  they  were 
spinning  cotton,  picking  it  from  the  boUes  and  sitting  themselves  down 
beneath  the  shade  of  the  little  cotton  trees  to  spin  it  up.  The  mystery 
was  now  solved — it  was  the  spinning  apparatus,  with  the  yam  on  itX 
which  was  borne  away  with  them,  an  afl^  so  light  and  simple,  as  to 
be  no  incumbrance  to  them  in  their  flight.  It  verily  seemed  the  pro- 
duct of  the  very  first  thought  ever  expended  upon  a  spinning  contri* 
vance.  I  lingered  in  breathless  silence  to  witness  its  operations,  edg- 
ing along  so  near  that  I  had  no  difficulty  in  mastering  the  philosophy 
of  it  without  stopping.  But,  just  as  I  had  gotten  past,  and  was  quidc* 
cniiig  my  steps  a  little,  I  looked  around,  and,  lo,  the  two  ladies  were 
half  way  across  the  field,  ^^  streaking  it,"  for  their  huts,  their  rags  fly- 
ing in  the  wind. 


COTTON  SPINNING.  115 


Who  has  not,  vhen  a  child,  amused  himself  in  twirling  a  top  ?  "that 
is  it — ^the  child's  top  is  a  perfect  image  of  the  spinning  machine  I  am 
attempting  to  describe,  only  bend  the  wire  pivot  on  which  it  turns,  at 
the  bottom  of  the  knob,  into  a  hook — ^that  makes  it  complete.  Now 
turn  it  bottom  upwards  and  commence  spinning.  The  handle  thus  be- 
ing turned  downwards,  forms  the  wooden  spindle,  around  which  sup- 
pose a  thread  to  be  commenced  at  one  end — pass  the  other  end  through 
the  hook  at  the  top  and  hold  it,  together  with  a  lock  of  cotton,  to 
which  it  is  joined,  in  one  hand,  while,  with  the  other  hand,  you  seize 
the  lower  end  of  the  spindle  and  give  it  a  twirl.  It  will  continue  to 
twirl  long  enough  to  twist  a  thread  two  feet  long,  as  fast  as  it  is  drawn 
out  by  the  descending  weight  of  the  machine,  which  hangs  suspended 
from  your  hand  by  the  thread  it  is  spinning.  By  the  time  it  has 
ceased  to  twirl,  your  thread  is  twisted,  which  you  will  wind  around 
the  spindle  with  your  hand,  slipping  it  off  the  hook  for  the  purpose, 
and  then  slipping  it  back  again  to  repeat  the  twirl,  until  your  spindle 
is  full. 

Such  is  the  spinning  machine  in  use  throughout  Egypt  at  the  pre- 
sent day.  1  have  looked  for  it  among  the  pictorial  representations 
upon  the  tombs  without  success,  and  yet,  I  doubt  not  it  is  thus  me- 
morialized as  an  implement  in  use  with  the  ancient  Egyptians.  I  have 
often  seen  it  in  use  in  the  towns  and  villages,  as  well  as  in  the  cotton 
fields. 

Can  anything  be  more  primitive  ?  And  to  find  it  in  operation  in 
the  fields,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  plant  which  yields  the  cotton  it 
spins — yrhat  earlier  or  cruder*'stage,  in  domestic  manufacture,  can  be 
conceived,  unless  it  were  to  twist  a  thread  with  the  fingers  ?  It  seems 
to  ante-date  the  pyramids.  Not  even  the  flax-dressing  process  I  have 
described,  savors  more  of  antiquity. 

I  said  "  beneath  the  little  cotton  trees" — the  cotton  plant  of  Egypt 
being  a  triennial,  as  large  the  third  year  of  its  growth  as  a  peach  tree 
of  the  same  age,  and  more  ample  of  leaf,  to  afford  protection  from  the 
sun. 

The  Valley  of  the  Nile  is  admirably  adapted  to  the  production  of 
cotton,  of  a  quality  equal  to  that  of  our  sea  island ;  and,  as  peasant 
labor  here  is  cheaper  than  slave  labor  with  us,  they  might  easily  under- 
sell and  supercede  us  in  the  markets  of  Europe,  if  they  had  energy 
enough,  protection  (of  private  rights)  enough,  and  land  enough.  To 
develop  the  resources  of  the  country,  however,  in  this  as  in  other  par- 
ticulars, a  Mohammed  Ali  is  needed  at  the  helm. 

But,  while  the  women  ran  away,  I  had  evidence  enough  in  this  very 
excursion,  that  the  opposite  sex  show  a  disposition  to  cultivate  your 


119  LAND  OF  THE  PTRAKIDS. 


9<?(|iiaintaDoe,  even  to  rudeness,  approaching  you  with  a  dugu^ng 
&mUiarity,  Their  salutations,  however,  are  rather  sentimental  than 
otherwise.  Their  ^' good  morning ! "  (salama!)  is  uttered  with  enx> 
phatic  warmth,  aooompanied  bj  a  sentimental  movement  of  the  hand^ 
first  to  the  breast  and  then  to  the  forehead.  But  there  is  another  form 
of  salutation  practised  by  the  better  class,  which,  perhaps,  is  still 
more  sentimental,  and  which  consists  in  touching  the  right  hand  to 
yours  and  kissing  it  just  at  the  point  of  contact.  It  is  a  delicate  sub- 
stitute for  kissing  your  hand.  Both  methods  have  struck  me  rather 
pleasantly. 

Their  readiness  to  divide  with  yoo  even  to  their  last  crust,  has,  I 
think,  given  rise  to  erroneous  impressions,  in  reference  to  Arab  hospi- 
tality. It  seems  to  me  that  appearances,  have  been  mistaken  for  the 
reality.  I  would  not  wantonly  spoil  any  man's  good  opinion  of  any 
representative  of  our  common  humanity,  wherever  he  may  turn  up; 
but,  really ^so  far  as  my  own  experience  and  observation  go,  I  cannot 
endorse  the  certificates  of  character  which  have  sometimes  been  too 
hastily  given.  I  have  oflen  been  the  recipient  of  their  favors,  some- 
times officiously  obtruded  upon  me,  but  never  that  I  did  not  detect  a 
lurking  expectation,  that  they  would  be  far  more  than  indemnified  by 
a  huekiheish  in  return,  and  a  manifest  disappmntment^  if  the  anticipated 
boon  was  not  forthcoming ;  and  I  have  had  them  c<.)rne  ruiming  afler 
me  for  it,  when  I  have  been  a  little  remiss  in  my  reciprocations. 
And  I  will  go  &rther  and  say,  that  those  who  are  most  officious  in 
their  proffers  of  kindness,  are  oflen  the  very  ones  to  turn  round  and 
rob  you,  the  first  favorable  opportunity.  I  have  had  them  steal  from 
me  in  the  very  act  of  conferring  a  favor,  that  method  being  taken  to 
cover  the  robbery.  Still,  for  humanity's  sake,  I  should  hope,  that 
some  of  them  are  honest.  Alas,  how  sear  does  the  human  heart  be- 
come under  the  blighting  influence  of  oppression — how  barren  of 
every  virtue ! 

In  passing  through  the  villages,  it  is  common  to  see  groups  of  men 
squatted  upon  a  divan  around  the  interior  of  a  coffee  house,  or  ranged 
along  the  exteripr,  enjoying  the  luxury  of  the  pipe,  telling  stories  and 
making  merry.  Wonderful,  indeed,  is  the  play  given  to  their  social 
sympathies,  by  the  inspiration  of  coffee  and  the  pipe.  These  gentle 
stimulants  seem  to  have  an  effect  upon  them  analagous  to  that  of  tea 
upon  the  softer  sex,  only  more  marked,  and  for  the  same  reason,  viz^ 
that  their  systems  have  never  been  inured  to  the  stronger  stimulantSi 
and  thus  had  their  finer  susceptibilities  burned  out.  The  mass  of  the 
people  never  drink  intoxicating  liquor.  If  it  were  not  forbidden  hj 
the  Koran,  they  have  not  the  means  to  obtain  it,  and  they  are  not  ac- 
customed even  to  the  stimulus  of  meat. 


SKSItlHBS  OF  BORDER  LUTX.  17T 


SKETCHES  OF  BOfDER  LIFE. 


A  OITB. 


CHAPTER  rV. 


A^CuvJW^ 


wokm,  a  traffic  «oew^  attending  a  tinging  school^  a  backwoocbman^  JUs  Unffo^  neigh' 
horheod  tpre$9,  removing  to  a  new  camping  ground^  moeqvdioes,  nature^e  concert 
ikfmbt^  a^pretHeum/enit,  roMunakee^  wMakep  as  an  amiidotef  a  eaae^  cuHoeiHee. 

Hie  market  is  at  a  distoocey  the  roads  in  a  bad  state,  and  the  coat^ 
ttd  trouble  of  tran^ortatkm  so  great,  that  the  fitrmer  prefers  to  live 
aitireljr  within  himself  and  leave  the  work  of  exportation  to  thoee 
liio  bave  convenient  markets  and  better  fiicilit&es. 

Com  ii  the  main  article  of  culture,  and  pork  the  staple  for  what 
eqMTtation  is  carried  on.  The  cornfields  of  Iowa  and  Illinois  are  mat> 
ten  of  such  notoriety,  that  it  is  not  necessary  fbr  me  to  reeapitalate 
tke  details,  llieir  siae  and  extent  are  not  exaggeraled  by  tfae  aecoants 
tint  ve  see  of  thenu  I  have  stood  upon  a  level  prairie  surrounded 
bj  eom  in  all  directions^  as  &r  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and  a  person 
■ttjr  ride  days  at  a  time  and  not  lose  sight  of  cornfields.  This  only. 
oocois  in  Illinois  and  the  eastern  parts  of  Iowa. 

It  remains  for  the  railroads  now  in  progress  to  devdope  the  resour- 
ce* of  this  vast  and  productive  region,  and  do  for  it  what  the  railroads 
of  Dlinois  have  done  for  that  State,  viz :  bring  its  furthest  oomera 
vithin  a  few  hoiifs'  ride  of  our  great  lakes  and  seaport  markets,  and 
iMore  te  the  Iowa  farmer  the  advantages  now  possessed  by  his  eastern 
Urethral.  The  people  are  a  generous,  hospitable  and  social  class  of 
obibitants,  and  a  traveler  is  never  refused  a  bed  and  the  very  beat 
^  the  house  affords.  The  information  he  brings  from  the  outer 
vorld  is  eagerly  received,  and,  in  most  cases,  considered  an  ample 
^valent  for  M  trouble  and  expense. 

,  lbs  sojourner  must  be  content  with  com  bread,  pork  and  potatoes, 
iviet  butter,  and  rich  milk,  and  these  he  is  always  welcome  to.  An 
^kere  are  no  taverns  except  in  villages,  every  6u'mer  hangs  out  the 
litflk^stiing  for  travelers,  and  in  fiict  he  can  do  no  less  in  common  hn- 
BMnitj,  for  a  traveler  compelled  to  traverse  Ae  pnuries  in  the  nighty 
lOQQ  loses  his  way  and  wanders  he  knows  not  whither. 

Of  vrild  anira^  thei*e  are  few.     The  prairie  wolf,  a  small  gray 


178  8KBTCHES  OF  BOBBER  LITE. 

wolf  that  burrows  in  the  ground,  is  dangerous  to  sheep,  but  does  not 
attack  men,  except  in  very  rare  cases,  when  driven  to  desperation  bj 
hunger,  and  emboldened  by  overwhelming  numbers.  In  the  timbered 
regions  the  black  wolf  is  sometimes  found,  very  large  and  fierce,  and 
is  a  dangerous  enemy  when  urged  by  starvation.  During  the  winters 
of  '54  and  '55,  (which  were  imprecedented  for  severity,)  not  only  were 
men,  women,  and  children  fh)zen  to  death,  but  some  fell  victims  to 
the  ferocity  of  these  ravenous  beasts.  A  case  of  peculiar  aggravatioii 
fell  within  my  notice  during  the  winter  of  '55.  A  man  and  his  two 
daughters,  while  on  their  return  from  singing  school,  on  a  dark  and 
stCHrmy  night,  were  attacked  by  three  large  black  wolves. '  The  three 
were  all  upon  ona  horse,  and  had  opportunity  neither  for  escape  or 
defence.  One  of  the  girls,  paralyzed  by  fright,  lost  her  hold,  and  fell, 
and  was  quickly  torn  in  pieces.  The  father  and  sister  hastened  awaj, 
with  the  shrieks  of  the  poor  girl  in  their  ears. 

An  illustration  of  the  peculiar  severity  of  a  winter  on  the  prairie 
may  be  found  in  the  fact  related  to  me  by  a  farmer,  of  his  having  had 
thirteen  head  of  cattle  frozen  in  their  tracks  in  one  night  Some  lay 
upon  the  ground  as  they  had  composed  themselves  to  rest  the  night 
before,  and  others  stood  upon  their  feet,  stark  and  stiff,  a  fearful  com- 
ment upon  the  practice  of  leaving  cattle  exposed  to  the  inclemencies 
of  the  weather,  without  shelter,  as  is  the  oommon  custom. 

The  population  of  Iowa  is  intermixed  with  a  portion  of  southerners, 
mostly  fi*om  Kentucky,  Tennessee  and  Missouri,  who,  as  a  class,  form 
the  poorest  part  of  the  community,  possessing  th^  least  enterprise  and 
enei^  of  any  of  the  inhabitants  of  that  State,  as  their  dilapidated 
cabins,  and  poverty-stricken  appearance  plainly  show.  Hie  people 
have  introduced  many  of  the  southern  provincialisms,  which  being  in- 
termixed with  the  eastern  idioms,  form  a  dialect  peculiar  to  the  coun- 
try. "  I  reckon,"  "  I  allow,"  "  let  on,*'  and  sudi  like,  are  derived 
from  the  South.  It  is  hard  to  assign  a  meaning  to  many  of  Uiem,  as 
they  are  used  indiscriminately,  and  the  hearer  is  left  to  his  conjectures 
for  the  application.  Hie  habit  of  using  these  phrases  pervades  all 
classes,  more  or  less,  and  none  are  free  from  them. 

We  were  camped  once  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  school  house,  in 
which  we  learned  there  was  to  be  a  singing  sdiool  on  the  night  of  our 
arrival.  So  when  everything  was  made  snug,  and  the  supper  dishes 
out  of  the  way,  it  was  decided  that  the  party  should  attend.  It  was 
very  much  like  any  other  shiging  school,  though  we  were  not  mudi 
edified  by  the  singing,  as  the  presence  of  our  party  in  such  formidable 
numbers,  rather  abashed  the  young  ladies,  so  that  they  did  not  display 
ability  to  any  great  extent,  while  the  young  gentlemen  regarded 


1.  BACKWOODS  HUNTER.  itt 


US,  as  usual,  with  no  very  friendly  feelings,  for  there  vere  some  in  the 
party  that  were  inveterate  gigglers,  and  with  all  the  instructions  and 
frowns  of  the  "  oldsters,"  could  not  be  taught  to  keep  their  &oea 
fltriught,  under  the  original  remarks  and  droll  comparisons  of  the  two 
wags  of  the  party,  whJ)  considered  everything  they  saw,  legitimate 
game  for  fun,  so  that  the  country  beaux  saw  very  plainly  that  they 
were  laughed  at,  and  resented  it  accordingly.  Their  bashfulness  ope- 
rated-to  such  an  extent,  that  they  allowed  the  young  ladies  to  go  home 
alone,  and  we  did  not  feel  bound  to  supply  the  deficiency.  But  their 
natural  diffidence  did  not  seem  equal  to  that  of  their  beaux,  for  we 
heard  spoken,  in  tones  evidently  intended  for  our  ears,  ^  Vd  like  to  git 
one  of  them  ere  railroaders  to  go  home  with  me,"  to  which  was  re> 
plied,  ^'  I  reckon  he'd  better  go  long  with  me,  he'd  git  to  go  a  heap 
ftirder."  The  logic  and  manner  of  delivery  of  the  latter  were  conclo- 
■ive,  but  we  preferred  our  blankets  to  a  tramp  across  the  prairie  al 
night,  with  such  specimens  of  the  sex. 

Tliere  are  a  good  many  deer  still  to  be  found  on  the  prairies  ati4 
inhabiting  the  groves  and 'timbered  land  that  borders  the  Mississippi 
and  its  tributaries,  the  Iowa,  Skunk  and  Des  Moines  Kivers ;  and  now 
and  then  viaj  be  met  in  the  woods,  a  specimen  of  .the  genuine  back- 
woodsman^ rough  and  hearty,  sociable  and  full  of  yams  relating  to  hia 
calling,  his  rifle  and  dogs  being  asjough  as  himself.  The  hunter  holdi 
in  special  contempt  the  exploits*of  amateur  shooters,  with  their  double 
barrelled  shot  guns,  and  finely  polished  rifles,  turos  up  his  nose  at  the 
&t,  sleek  pointer,  and  declares  that  he  would  not  give  his  favorite  bladL 
tan  or  greyhound  for  a  hundred  of  them.  He  generally  carries  an 
old  &shioned  rifle,  that  has  been^an  heir-loom  in  the  family,  and  which 
18  valued  for  its  good  qualities  rather  than  its  appearance.  All  brighi 
ornaments,  such  as  are  valued 'on  our  finished  rifles,  are  carefullj 
avoided,  and  the  blacker^the  barrel,  and  greamer  the  stock,  the  more  il 
is  esteemed,  so  long  as  there  is  a^borefthat  will  send  the  ball  to  the 
very  spot  intended,  and  without*fail.'  We  often  met,  in  the  timbered 
bluflb  of  the  Skunk  River,  an  old  hunter  who  was  one  of  the  pioneers 
of  the  country,  and  as  he  was  verygtalkative,  and  had  plenty  of  stories 
to  tell,  we  soon  became  well  acquainted.  He  kept  the  boys  listening 
to  him  many  a  half  hour,  when^they  should*have  been  at  work,  relating 
stories  of  the  pioneer  days,  hunting  exploits,'&c. 

He  loved  most  de>arly  his  uncouth  old  rifle.  Holding  it  up,  and 
looking  at  it  affectionately,  he  would  say  rjjjj^"  Mebby  you  think,  boys, 
that  this  ere  old  gim  wont  shoot,  cause  she  haint  got  any  shiny  fixena 
and  fancy  flumididdles on  her;  but  I  tell, you  she'll  put  a  ball  right 
into  the  spot  every  time.     I  don't  want  none  of  yer  brass  and  6er- 


1«P  8KBVQH9»  OF  BOBMR  UFB. 

mma  mlver  fixona  round  m j  oli  Continen^ler.  Why,  lock  a  yer  1 
Fve  actiUy  9eed  a  feller  oome  out  yere  wUh  one  o'  thma  ara  finqp 
fixed  up  Qonaanw,  and  what  he  called  a»  shoottn'  jacket,  and  big  hoots 
that  buckled  up  around  hk  cbin,  anda  little  pmter  and  aetter  dqg.  I 
told  him  his  pinter  ivant  good  for  nothin'  only  to  aet  by  the  fire  and. 
pint  at  the  vittlee.  Well,  he  had  braaa  and  silyer  on  that  ave  gun  to^ 
that  amount  that  he  aotilly  akeored  every  deer  and  turkey  out  of  th*' 
woods,  'fore  he  got  in  haff  a  mild  of  'em.  He  said  it  ooal  aix^  dok 
llirs,  and  I  reckon  like  enulT  it  did,  but  it  want  no.  'count  hera.  Hft 
might  jest  as  well  hev  took  a  lookin'  glass  and  tried  to  run  iqp  'loQg- 
side  of  adeer  with  it  as  that  are  thing,  for  the  sun  flashed  and  fliokend 
on  it  so  you  oould  a  seen  it  a  mild,  and  the  deer  and  turkey  keopa 
their  eyes  open  nowdays — ^they're  gittin'  right  skeroe^  too.  He  'low'd 
thi^  yer  old  thing  wouldn't  shoot,  cause  'twant  shiney ;  but  I  aaoa 
showed  him  the'difierence.  And  then  he  couldn't  shoot  no  way  'till 
he  got  propped  up  longside  of  a  tree  or  sumthin  'ruther — tint's  wha*. 
I(CalI  pop  shootin'.  I  wouldn't  a  minded  lettin'  of  him  shoot  at  ma 
aU  day  for  two  bits  a  shot"  He  then  proceeded  to  act  out  for  oas 
benefit  his  description,  with  all  kinds  of  comical  gestures  and  molkmau 
Tkus  he  continued :  ''  He'd  git  behind  a  tree,  and  he'd  twirt  and  screwy. 
aii4  abut  one  eye  and  blink  t'other  one — ^then  he'd  twist  and  screw  agjiiiy 

t  then,  he'd  pull  the  trigger  and  find  out  that  the  gun  want  oocked — 
he'd  have  to  begin  agin,  and  afore  he  got  to  shoot  the  game  mm 
a  mild  ofi*.  He  said  he  was  rewralizin'  or  somaethin'  'ruther ;  I  duanof 
M(hat  he  meant,  without  'twaa  that  he  was  tryin'  to  see  how  big  a  foci 
he  could  make  of  himsel£  The  last  I  seen  of  bin),  he  was  stuck  in 
t]^e  mud,  down  there  on  the  Skunk  bottom,  hollerin'  like  blaaca.  Ha 
was  a  little  feller,  and  I  don't  know  but  what  he  went  ODder.  Hie. 
pinter  and  setter  snarled  sA  old  Tige,  and  he  took  hold  of  him  and 
ahook  him  into  mince  me^  afore  I  could  get  him  oC" 

This  veteran  pioneer  rendered  himself  usefiil  to  us  in  many  wi^^ 
He  had  ranged  the  woods  in  his  viomity  for  many  years,'  and  had  toM 
his  storiea  to  the  first  government  surveyor  that  had  ever  penetnted 
the  r^on,  and  coaaeqneBtly  was  well  acquaiated  with  all  the  land- 
marka^  township  and  section  comcra  that  had  been  made  by  tihanu 
We  had  only  to  ask  hia  asmatsnoe  in  finding  any  partieular  iiiinciM 
stump  or  monument,  and  he  could  take  a  line  thixn^  uadarbroBli, 
doughs  and  creeks,  to  the  spot^  without  delay.  Our  admiration,  for 
his  skill  in  woodcraft,  was  folly  equalled  by  his  revcrenoe  for  tiie 
'*book  lamin"  that  enabled  us  to  perform  what  seamed  to  him  prod; 
ijpes  of  wonder  and  science.  It  was  caay  for  him  to  underatand  haw 
a  man  might  put  a  ball  thnough  a  turkey  at  three  hundned  yard%  b«l 


MfiBG^UBGQffiOOD  QnOBB.  #  III 

lie  ooold  net  eomprehend  liow^  we  ooaM  itaart  from  a  corner  stotte 
iMoh  he  feund  fcnr  as,  and  mn  a  straight  line  to  another  stone,  ftftjr 
■rilaa  away,  over  hkuSb  aad  TallejrB,  through  lakes  and  sloughs,  and  that 
uritbout  €S9et  having  seen  the  point  aimed  for ;  or  how  we  coidd  tell 
kirn  within,  half  an  inch,  die  height  of  the  hill  on  which  Ids  house 
stood,  above  the  Mississippi,  a  hundred  miles  off  All  this  was  above 
toB  comprehension,  and  he  regarded  the  transit  and  level  with  feelings 
IHtle  short  of  veneration,  and  even  went  so  &r  as  to  whip  Tige  for 
cmning  too  near  them. 

The  young  men  of  the  country  are  fine,  stalwart  specimens  of  men, 
tfinred  to  hard  labor,  accustomed  to  the  nse  of  the  ride,  and  ever  ready 
for  the  frolic  and  dance.  The  winter  season  is  enlivened  by  a  succes- 
sion of  husking,  chopping,  and  paring  bees.  The  com  is  husked,  the 
winter's  wood  got  in,  and  pumpkins  pared  instead  of  apples.  In  these 
frolics,  a  good  deal  of  hard  work  is  rendered  easy  by  the  light  hearts 
and  willing  hands  ^t  are  always  ready  to  respond  to  the  first  invita- 
fAoB,  Very  little  ceremony  is  used  in  the  way  of  invitation.  No  gilt 
e%ed  notes  are  sent,  nor  polite  regrets  returned.  When  the  &rmer 
and  Ms  wife  conclude  on  luiving  a  jollification,  they  tell  their  next 
neighbors,  who  in  turn  circulate  the  news  a  little  further.  The  boys 
get  the  welcome  tidings  and  brush  their  best  coats  and  rough  and 
ipeady  hats,  and  call  ovor  the  fence  to  some  comrade,  as  they  go  to 
work  in  the  morning,  that  ^  Sidebottom  is  going  to  have  a  spree  to- 
'ftight.^  He  leaves  his  team  standing  in  the  road,  while  he  follows  ^ 
some  well  known  path  across  the  fields  to  a  &rm  house,  which  he  enters 
without  knocking,  nods  to  the  old  lady  with,  '^  How  are  you,  this 
inamin\  marm  1  **  "  Well,  right  peart,  eonsiderin* ;  how's  all  your 
r<dks  <  "  "  Right  smart,  thank  you."  After  a  pause,  •*  Where's  idl 
the  gals  got  to?  '^  ''I  reckon  Tennessee's  out  there  in  the  kitchen, 
diumin'— dunno  where  the  rest  of  'em  is." 

She  knows  very  well  that  Jake  don*t  care  where  they  are,  for  Ten- 
nessee is  the  one  he  is  in  search  of,  and  he  makes  Us  way  to  the 
kiuftien,  and  taking  her  out  at  the  bade  door,  makes  his  communicatioh 
and  gladdens  her  heart  with  the  promise  of  a  spree.  8he  does  not 
want  two  weeks  beforehand  to  get  ready  in,  for  there  are  no  milliners 
and  dressmakers  tor  her  to  consult,  or  for  '^  papa  "  to  pay.  She  puts 
^m  die  ealieo  with  the  big  red  flowers  on  it,  that  Jake  thinks  is  ^^purty," 
and  if  she  k  s^  fortunate  as  to  possess  a  red  velvet  bonnet,  it  is  brought 
out  on  thm  ooeasion.  She  is  ready  by  four  hi  the  afternoon,  and  httr 
glad  &oe  and  rosy  cheeks,  as  she  takes  her  seat  beside  her  beau,  in  the 
%ig  lumber  wagon,  folly  snstams  his  opinion  that  she  is  *^  about  as 
«iee  a  gal  as  they  get  up,  now-days."    Hie  large  room  of  the  home 


18S  ^  8KBTGHB8  OF  BOBDER  IJF& 

has  been  well  scrubbed  during  the  day,  and  all  unnecessary  fumituie 
lemovedf  and  the  guests  are  ushered  in  with  a  smile.  It  may  be  tup- 
posed  our  party  had  no  conscientious  scruples  against  a  frolic,  and 
were  always  on  hand  to  honor  the  general  invitation.  The  boys  are 
generally  a  iitUe  jealous,  for  our  fellows,  not  being  troubled  with 
diffidence,  always  deported  themselves  among  the  girls  in  a  way  that 
left  them  in  the  shade,  and  the  ladies,  with  their  usual  love  of  noveltj 
.  and  coquetry,  profited  by  the  occasion  to  show  their  beaux  that  they 
were  not  the  only  men  in  the  world.  Tennessee  behaved  in  a  scandal- 
pus  manner  with  Levi,  dancing  the  most  of  the  time  with  him  and 
whispering  very  low  in  the  comers,  to  the  entire  exclusion  of  Jake, 
and,  upon  some  remonstrance  upon  his  part,  turned  up  her  pert  little 
nose,  and  "  lowed  she  knowcd  what  she  was  about ; "  but,  as  usual,  it 
was  plain  to  see  that  she  knew  how  far  to  carry  it,  and  followed  him. 
with  her  eye  as  he  turned  away  looking  mad.  She  was  careful  to 
make  him  happy  again  before  the  evening  was  &r  advanced.  The 
dancing  commences  about  six  o'clock,  and  cotillon  succeeds  cotiUoii^ 
until  about  eleven.  Then  all  are  seated  around  the  room  and  oofbe 
and  cakes  passed  around.  The  coffee  is  good,  and  the  cookies  not  to 
be  beat  by  any  fashionable  pastries. 

Pumpkin  pie  follows,  and  all  are  forced  to  acknowledge  that  they 
have  had  enough  before  the  eatables  are  sent  off.  The  girls  get  to> 
gether  in  knots,  and  discuss  the  appearance  of  the  new  comers,  while 
the  boys  go  up  to  the  fiddlers'  bench  with  four  bits  apiece,  for  it  la 
well  understood  that  all  who  dance  must  pay  the  fiddler. 

Elase  and  freedom  is  general.  There  are  no  rules  for  behavior  or 
politeness,  except  those  dictated  by  good  feeling,  and  each  one  is  at 
liberty  to  show  his  exuberance  in  the  way  best  suited  to  himself^ 
whether  it  be  by  an  involuntaiy  pirouette  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
•olus,  or  by  catching  his  partner  round  the  waist  and  lifting  her  from 
the  floor,  performing  an  extemporaneous  war  dance  round  the  room, 
with  accompanying  whoops  to  match.  It  may  seem  rough  treatment  to 
ladies  accustomed  to  polite  society,  but  therey  where  concealment  of  the 
true  feeling  is  never  thought  of^  it  is  not  considered  distastefuL  In 
fact,  the  institution  of  ^^  hugging  "  is  in  high  &vor  with  these  daugh- 
ters of  nature. 

The  dancing  is  kept  up  till  a  late  hour  in  the  morning,  generally  till 
the  fiddlers  are  tired  out.  Those  who  become  tired  of  dancing  before 
.that  time,  quietly  witluiraw  into  some  corner  of  the  kitchen,  or  other 
retired  place,  and  flna  subjects  for  a  good  deal  of  low  whispering,  to 
.say  nothing  of  other  improper  performances  above  mentioned.  At 
daylight^  the  wagons  are  brought  to  the  door,  and  all  depart  in  the  beel 
of  humor,  and  are  ready  for  another  frolic  by  night  time. 


REMOVING  ENCAMPMENT.  18S 

As  we  advanced  with  the  work,  it  became  necessary  to  move  the 
camp,  which  operation  was  performed  every  few  days.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  commence  early  in  the  rooming,  in  order  to  devote  the  greater 
part  of  the  day  to  work  in  the  fields,  though,  as  this  part  of  the  sur- 
vey was  only  an  exploration  of  the  main  difficult  points  of  the  routOi 
the  camping  places  were  oflen  twenty  or  thirty  miles  apart,  and  occu- 
pied a  day  in  the  removal. 

The  tent  was'generally  pulled  down  over  the  heads  of  the  sleepers 
by  one  or  two  of  the  early  risers,  much  to  their  astonishment  and  dis- 
comfiture. Each  man  was  required  to  roll  up  his  bedding  and  '^traps,'* 
preparatory  to  loading  after  break&st.  This  process  requires  consid- 
erable skill  and  experience,  not  so  much  on  account  of  the  weight  of 
the  load  as  its  size  and  unwieldy  form.  It  was  well  known,  howevcTi 
that  it  had  been  on  the  wagon  many  times  before,  and  consequently 
must  go  on  again,  and  it  was  piled  and  thrown  on,  hung  under  the 
axletrees,  projected  &r  ahead  over  the  mules,  and  &r  behind  on  the 
tent  poles,  (which  were  twice  the  length  of  the  wagon,)  till,  finally,  all 
was  declared  ready,  and  the  driver,  taking  his  seat  at  a  towerini;  height 
above  his  team,  cracked  his  whip,  and  the  little  mules  moved  off  quite 
unconscious  of  the  ludicrous  appearance  they  presented  under  their 
towering  load.  The.party  followed  on  foot,  carrying  such  things  as 
could  not  be  trusted  to  the  wagon.  The  keg  that  contained  the  bread 
and  biscuits  the  cook  had  baked  the  day  before,  was  slung  on  behind, 
so  t^t  all  could  help  themselves  as  occasion  required,  and  we  traveled 
on,  munching  biscuit  and  stopping  occasionally  for  water  melons  or  a 
drmk  of  water,  or  putting  our  shoulders  to  the  wheel  when  the  mules 
got  "  stalded,"  as  they  say  in  Iowa.  Our  appearance  would  probably 
have  attracted  considerable  attention  in  some  parts  of  the  country,  but 
was  received  there  as  a  common  occurrence.  Arrived  at  our  destina- 
tion, a  suitable  camping  ground  was  selected,  always  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  a  good  running  spring ;  things  were  pitched  off  indiscrimi- 
nately, and  the  tents  got  out  and  set  up  the  first  thing.  The  cook  set 
to  getting  supper,  and  parties  were  detached  to  procure  wood,  also 
straw  and  com  for  the  horses,  while  two  or  three  regulated  things  inr 
side  the  tents,  disposing  the  bundles  of  bed  clothing,  valises  &o., 
everything  in  its  proper  place,  so  that  on  looking  inside  one  would 
flcarely  think  that  they  did  not  stand  in  the  same  place  that  they  did 
the  night  before.  A  trench  was  then  dug  around  the  outside  of  the 
tent,  to  keep  water  from  running  in,  and  the  sides  well  pinned  down 
to  keep  snakes  out.  These  arrangements  completed,  supper  was  ready, 
for  the  most  part  consisting  of  game,  killed  on  the  road  or  mn  down 
by  the  dogs,  and  discussed  with  appetites  proportioned  to  the  twenty 
mile  walk  of  the  day.  . 


/ 


IM  SmSTOHBIS  OF  BORDFit  IJFB. 

Ojiye  of  tjie  »twidii\g  tormenU  of  the  oounirj  wm  to  beftoofo^uiliired 
la  tbe  mosquitoes  that  awiMrm  the  bwlaods  and  bottom  Jhndt  gf  lijb^ 
jtfutuflsiiqpd  apd  its  trihutiuries.    The  prunes,  as  a  general  things  w&c^ 
free  from  this  pest,  as  the  dear  fresh  air  that  is  constantly  blowing  tbe^ 
is  death  to  them ;  the  fever  and  ague  exhalations  of  the  marshes  an4 
low  timbered  regions  being  necessary  to  their  existence.    Hiere  thi^ 
were  to  be  found  in  their  glory,  and  of  all  sizes  and  descriptions,  froQi 
the  gallinipper  of  &bulous  size,  to  the  diminutive  gnati  that,  after  fill- 
ing himself  with  your  blood,  amuses  himself  in  getting  into  your  eym 
and  down  your  throat.     The  undergrowth  was  filled  with  them  to  such 
an  extent  that  the  air  seemed  literally  alive  w^ith  them,  and  the  daep^ 
musical  hum  of  their  tiny  wings,  intermingled  with  the  sopgs  of  innu- 
merable birds,  the  chipperiog  of  squirrels,  and  the  hoarse  cry  of  tk^ 
wild  geese  in  some  neighboring  pool,  conveyed  to  the  mind  a  vivid 
idea  of  nature  in  all  its  grandeur  and  solitude.    Now  and  then  a  shout 
from  some  distant  member  of  the  party  broke  upon  the  concert,  and  ech- 
oed here  and  there,startling  the  noisy  thousands  into  momentary  silence, 
and  causing  the  frisking  squirrel  to  dive,  like  a  flash,  into  his  bole,  the 
ground  mice  to  rear  themselves  upon  their  haunches,  and  peer  cau- 
tiously, and  with  inquisitive  looks,  around,  and  at  the  sonorous  note 
of  warning  to  arise  from  the  watchful  sentinel  in  the  nearest  flock,  to 
be  taken  up  by  his  neighbor  and  repeated  &r  and  near,  gradually  dy- 
ing away  in  the  distance.     Nothing  is  audible  but  the  low,  incessant 
bum  of  the  insect  life  that  fills  the  air,  sounding  like  a  distant  base 
accompaniment  ef  some  grand  Julian  orchestra.     Presently  a  cat  bird 
ventures  a  gentle  mew,  in  i^prehensive  tone  and  with  head  turned  coiir 
ningly  to  one  side,  which  is  answered  by  the  blackbird,  with  his  shrill, 
metalic  note.    The  oriole  enters  his  remonstrance  against  such  wilfid 
disturbance  with  musical  twitter,  and  the  bright  black  eyes  of  the  fox 
squirrel  peer  fearfully  from  his  retreat.    All  nature  is  again  alive,  and 
pours  forth  its  melody  from  a  thousand  throats.    All  this  would  be 
very  grand  and  beautiful,  if  one  were  not  constantly  reminded  of 
earthly  things  by  the  thousands  of  mosquitoes,  gnats  and  every  other 
variety  of  insect  tormentors,  which  settle  upon  hands,  face  and  neoky 
and  ply  themselves  with  all  diUigence.     A  limb  of  hazle  is  kept  iia 
constant  requisition  as  a  preventive,  but  with  little  avail,  especially  at 
such  a  moment  as  when,  with  eye  applied  to  the  inatrumrat,  and  the 
arms  occupied  in  motioning  to  the  men,  too  &r  distant  to  hear,  n^ 
choice  was  left  the  operator  but  to  stand  and  take  it ;  while,  At  the 
same  time,  the  poor  consolation  was  afibrded  by  the  sight  through  tb# 
telescope  of  the  afoi'esaid  party  at  the  end  of  a  narrow,  dark  lant 
which  they  were  cutting  through  the  underbrush  a  mile-  or  two  liv%7»^ 
and  always  engaged  in  the  same  delectable  warfare. 


TRAVBZiS  IN  THB  SOUTH  WB8T.  ^       JJI 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH-WEST. 


IT  QILBBT  BATBAWAT,  HQ.,  Of  tAFOVn,  lA. 


CHAPTER  n. 


The  Bluffs,  November,  175  . 

Dear  B. : — I  closed  mj  last  at  Helena,  on  the  Mississippi,  and,  in 
as  much  as  I  have  ik>w  taken  leave  of  the  noble  river,  not  expecting 
ip  «ee  it  again  for  many  months,  at  least,  I  will  take  this  occasion  to 
mention  some  peculiarities  which  do  not  obtain  in  rooky  and  rolling 
districts  of  country. 

When  on  my  way  to  Mexico,  some  time  ago,  I  recollect  our  boat 
stopped  at  the  point  above  referred  to,  for  the  purpose  of  putting  ojf 
freight  and  passengers.  We  rounded  too,  as  we  always  do,  on  mak- 
ing a  landing  on  the  western  rivers,  with  the  bow  of  the  boat  pointing 
up  stream,  directly  in  front  of  the  town,  which,  at  that  timie,  waa  a 
naall  place  of  some  five  hundred  inhabitants,  the  water  was  good,  as 
the  ordinary  expression  is,  meaning  deep  enough  for  a  good  landing ; 
ihe  bank  was  bold,  and  the  landing  effected  without  delay  or  difiicultj. 
The  place  of  debarkation  was  at  the  upper  point  of  the  town,  but  at 
the  time  of  my  recent  visit,  the  aspect  was'  entirely  changed.  Directly 
in  front  of  our  former  landing  place,  an  immense  sand  bar  stretched 
almost  across  the  river,  so  that  it  wa^  difficult  for  our  boat  to  get  over 
it.  .  Most  of  it  was  above  water,  and  had  been  taken  possession  of  by 
innumerable  quantities  of  ducks  and  geese  and  other  water  fowL 
!Ilie  stream  here  is  from  one  to  twoi  miles  in  width,  while  just  be- 
low, the  water,  by  its  freaks,  had  made  fearful  inroads  into  tfaa 
blanks,  which  had  formerly  appeared  so  subtantial  and  firm.  It  had 
already  carried  away  4b  great  portion  of  the  town  plat,  and  with  it  one 
pt  more  buildings,  and,  at  eadi  wave,  was  threaliening  two  storehones, 
juat  upon  its  caving  bank.  Already  had  it  proceeded  so  £»*  in  ita 
work  of  destruction,  as  to  carry  away  the  earth  from  one  comer  of 
Ihe  building,  which  was  projecting  over  the  bapl^  the  bubbling  aad 
whirling  waters  beneath  still  threatening.  This  building  was  occupied 
.by  one  of  tlie  latest  mercfaamts  in  the  place,  who  was  transacting  his 
business  with  as  much  apparent  unconcern  as  if  there  waa  no  diuo^ePCy 
when,  in  &ct|  the  next  twenty-four  hours  might  find  not  only  Um 


86  TRAYBIS  IN  THE  SOUTH  WEST. 


ground  on  which  his  house  was  situate,  carried  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  stream,  miles  below,  but  the  building  itself  and  all  its  valuable  ooii- 
tents.  Hie  idea  never  occurred  to  him  that  he  could  take  out  his 
goods  and  have  his  building  moved  back  from  the  water  out  of  harm's 
way.  He  had  pitched  his  tent  there,  and  felt  that  he  must  make  the 
best  of  it,  and  if  the  water  should  wash  his  foundation  out,  why,  it 
was  one  of  the  incidents  of  trade,  to  be  put  up  with,  and  his  creditors 
must  stand  the  loss  occasioned  thereby. 

Changes  of  this  kind  are  going  on  continually,  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio  to  the  Gulf— whole  plantations  are  not  unfrequently  taken 
firom  one  side  of  the  river  and  deposited  on  the  other,  by  which  means 
the  river  becomes  very  crooked,  and  as  these  aberations  are  going  on 
in  all  situations,  it  not  unfrequently  happens  that  the  water  breaks 
through  or  across,  making,  what  is  technically  called,  a  "  cut  oS,^  thus 
forming  an  island,  and  a  lake  of  more  or  less  extent,  of  the  water  in 
the  old  bed  of  the  stream. 

And  no  matter  is  it,  how  rich  or  large  a  growth  of  trees  there  mmj 
be  on  the  bank,  when  the  water  gets  a  set  in  any  particular  directioD, 
all  has  to  pass  away.  The  banks  crumble,  and  the  trees  fall  awsy 
from  its  mighty  power ;  so,  you  readily  see,  there  can  be  no  real  star 
bility  of  title, .  to  property  that  is  subject  to  such  mutations.  TUs 
year  you  may  be  the  owner  and  possessor  of  a  plantation  on  one  side 
of  the  stream,  when  the  next,  it  may  be  all  removed  and  deposited  on 
the  shores  of  your  more  fortunate  neighbors,  a  few  miles  below,  <hi 
the  opposite  side,  who,  in  turn,  within  a  twelvemonth,  may  not  only  lose 
what  fortune  has  thus  thrpwn  in  his  way,  but  what  he  possessed  be- 
fore. Then,  if  you  are  situate  on  the  ^*  bend,'^  you  may,  some  '^  fine 
morning,"  find  yourself  on  an  island  instead  of  the  main  land,  an  rnha* 
bitant  of  another  country,  or  state,  may  be,  from  what  you  were  on 
yesterday. 

Because  the  river  runs  in  a  particular  place  this  year,  it  is  no  reason 
that  it  will  not  run  three  miles  distant  the  next 

With  a  river  thus  changing  its  locality,  how  couM  you  expect  ranA 
stability  on  the  part  of  the  people  who  inhabit  its  banks  ? 

Helena  is  a  point  of  considerable  importance,  being  the  outlet  for  s 
laxge  district  of  good  country,  somewhat  noted  for  its  rich  growth  of 
cotton.  It  is  here  the  planters  of  small  means  make  sale  of  their 
crops  and  procure  their  plantation  supplies.  The  large  planters,  al* 
most  universally,  in  the  south,  have  their  factors  in  New  Orleans,  to 
whom  they  send  their  crops  direct,  and  through  whom  they  receive 
all  Uieir  supplies ;  but  as  there  are  but  few  of  this  description  in  this 
aeighbourhood,  the  tendency  has  been  to  build  up  a  firm  trade  at  this 


BAIK8D  IK  A  iOBT  PLACE.  181 

^oint,  presoDtiiig  much  more  the  appearanoe  of  tJie  tiirift  of  a  western 
town  than  one  of  the  south.  It  was  past  the  hour  of  ten  at  night 
when  our  steamer  came  to  at  liie  mouth  of  the  Ark^nsaw,  at  a  place 
called  Napoleon,  a  low,  most  miserable  and  dirty  place,  where  a  few 
ambitions  persons,  defying  death  with  all  his  terrors,  brave  out  a  lift 
of  constant  danger. 

I  had  determined  to  approach  Texas  by  crossing  Red  River,  at  Ful- 
ton, or  some  ferry  in  that  neighborhood,  and  save  the  necessity  of 
oroesing  the  river  at  this  point.  At  usual  stage  of  water,  Little  Rock 
can  be  approached  by  boat,  on  the  Arkansaw  river,  but  at  this  point 
such  a  thing  is  impossible,  as  there  are  no  boats  running,  the  water  not 
only  being  very  low,  but  lower  than  has  been  known  for  years.  I 
must  therefore  make  my  way  across  the  state  as  best  I  can,  by  stage 
or  other  modes  of  conveyance. 

I  had  been  informed  that  we  would  arrive  in  time  for  the  stage 
which  would  leave  for  the  Bluffs.  My  first  eflort,  therefore,  on  going 
tpsfaore,  was  to  ascertain  the  truth  of  the  remark.  In  company  with  a 
«otton  planter,  who  resides  at  Nashville,  Tenn.,  whose  plantation  was 
on  the  river,  before  reaching  the  Bluffs,  and  who  was  about  to  pay  it  a 
Tint,  I  repaired  with  as  little  delay  as  may  be  to  what  was  nominally, 
the  state  ofRce. 

Hie  night  was  clear — ^tiiose  thousands  and  myriads  of  diamonds  which 
fltod  the  azure  canopy,  twinkled  forth  their  light  upon  us,  as  beautifully 
and  with  as  much  lustre  as  did  they  in  those  ancient  nights  at  the 
period  when  the  prophet  commanded  the  sun  to  stand  still,  or  when 
tiie  patriarchs  tended  their  flocks  on  the  hills  of  Bashan. 
•  The  hushed  water  of  the  Mississippi  went  sweeping  by  in  all  the 
grandeur  of  his  majesty — the  might  of  silent  power.  The  atmosphere 
was  mild ;  no  chilling  breeze  suggested  cloak  or  muffle — a  calm  still- 
ness reigned  supreme ;  with  heart  filled  with  emotions,  of  recoUectionB 
of  the  past,  and  hopes  for  the  future,  and  with  desire  to  successfully 
aooomplish  the  object  of  my  journey,  I  hastend  on  shore,  and  dimbed 
the  slippery  bank,  hoping  to  be  in  time  for  the  stage,  that  should  take 
me  from  this  dismal  place. 
*  I  was  in  full  time,  for  I  soon  learned  that  the  stage,  or  rather  the 
ap<^ogy,  would  not  leave  till  the  next  night ;  there  was  no  altematiTe^ 
I  must  remain  at  least  twenty-four  hours. 

An  officious  son  of  the  Emerald  Isle,  who  took  pride  in  the  name  df 
Casey,  was  the  keeper  of  an  Irish  hole,  dignified  with  the  appellation  of 
hotel,  to  whidi  place,  under  his  direction,  we  repaired,  where  I  remain- 
ed, till  the  dull,  slow  hours  finally  passed  away^  enabling  me  to  bM 
food  bye  to  the  host^  who  was  really  better  than  he  appeared,  and 


u$  TiMiVKS  m  TQB  Mine  mnr. 

yiAoBe  bom^  dfiwded  mora  real  eom&Mtis  tlum  ttii  mi^mmimftMAjm- 
miaed. 

What  town  there  ia  at  Napolaon,  oonaiBta  of  »  few  ahantipai,  bvBtift 
the  cheapest  maimer,  on  the  imiBedia»te  haak  of  flialiiattaaippi,  ft^fi^ 
tie  below  the  mouth  of  the  Arkanaaw.  Hie  ground  m  fgnmaSky  Imr 
and  flat,  but  a  little  higher,  near  the  river,  than  elsewhere,  bi  Ac^  a 
few  rods  baok,  a  swamp,  dark,  dismal,  and  dank,  with  rioh  growth  of 
ootton  wood  trees,  and  the  usual  under  growth,  to  be  found  ki  this  di* 
mate)  with  the  clambering  vine  of  innumerable  varieties,  weaving,  iatet- 
ladng,  and  binding  together  into  one  impenetrable  masa,  all  traea^ 
bushes,  shrubs,  and  other  growth,  of  which  there  is  an  endless  variety, 
^th  here  and  there  a  cane  brake,  of  greater  or  less  extent,  filled  with 
venomous  snakes,  and  other  stinging  reptiles  and  insects;  and  J  am 
told  that  in  some  portions  of  the  swamp  many  bean  are  to  be  found, 
wild  cats,  and  an  occasdonal  panther. 

This  is  the  immediate  surrounding  of  the  place,  througjk  wlueh,  fer 
many  miles,  we  had  to  plough  our  way,  in  a  mud  wagon,  drawn  hgr 
(bur  horses.  They  have  raised  a  sort  of  levee  to  protect  them  ftma 
floods  of  the  river ;  but  It  not  unfrequently  oocure,  that  the  Arkansaw 
18  high  when  the  Mississippi  is  low,  and,  although  the  levae  may  be  a 
aort  of  protection  from  the  water  of  the  one,  yet  it  is  not  ao  from  tl» 
other ;  for,  it  comes  down  upon  them  through  the  swamp,  carrying 
death  and  destruction  in  its  course.  Hie  place  is  yerj  imhealthpt 
and,  for  this  reason  alone,  can  never  become  one  of  importance. 

•  Ihe  United  States  Government  has  ereoted  a  fine^bnilding  of  biiel|| 
for  a  marine  hospital,  similar  in  style  to  1^  one  in  CSiioBgot  it  is 
large,  roomy,  and  airy ;  and,  I  doubt  not,  well  calculated  for  the  pur- 
poses intended.  A  more  fitting  place  for  its  location  oonld 
be  found,  if  intended  for  the  acoommodalion  of  the  inhabitants 
abonts,  for,  certainly,  they  must  need  a  hospital  near  by.  But  for 
benefit  <^  the  poor  sailors,  who  may  be  taken  sick  on  the  Tiners^  1 
think  it  most  unpropitions ;  for,  I  do  not  see  how  any  siek  perKi% 
brought  from  a  distance,  could  get  well,  amid  the  peatilential  air  tfn(t 
must  prevail  most  of  the  year.  The  day  I  spent  here  was  one  o4  aaaoh 
anxiety — ^I  was  much  disapp<»nted  m  not  getting  vwajjr,  on  my  anrrral, 
and  a  species  oi  dejection  followed.  I  nauntered  on  the  levee,  I  valdk- 
ed  the  groups  of  idlers  in  their  8p<»ts-«-of  thimble-rig  and  other  de- 
^ees^  'by  which  to  prooure  fr<Mn  the.  loaing  party,  anodnr  doaa  of 
whiskey. 

Oecaaonally  I  would  sU^  to  see  an  ebon  son  prepare  to  take  the 
Mgly  catfish,  how  he  baited  his  '^barbed  steel,"  widi  whai  hopehis 
novntsnanoe  waa  animated,  in^en  he  cast  it  into  the  maddy  waftanii 


A  Dftmnmi  dbitsr.  h4 


mi  h^fw  he  rolled  his  lurge  wMte  ejee  wilir  deBglit,  when  eaooMv 
(flnMmed  bieeflbrte. 

It  WM  ten  at  nigltt  lyefore  ^e  bom  ef  the  stage  drrver  sounded  in 
ot»  ears,  giThig  ne  note  of  an  eariy  departure ;  soon  the  sammont 
oKme  to  prepare,  for  the  stage  was  at  t^e  door.  Had  I  not  been  nnich 
aocustomed  to  western  and  southern  travel,  I  might  have  been  sur* 
prised  and  disappointed,  when  I  went  to  the  door.  You,  my  dear 
Mend,  would,  doubtless,  have  expeeted  a  fine  ooadb,  with  four  prandng 
stoeda  attached,  instead  of  which,  there  wms  a  common  mud  wagon, 
well  filled  with  bags  of  mail  matter,  so  that  no  seat  could  be  obtained, 
QBEcept  what  the  mail  bags  afforded ;  and,  thus  it  was,  that  four  pass- 
eagen  diapoaed  of  oarselvefr  on  various  parte  of  the  heap,  for  a  ride  of 
MttileS)  through  the  swamp  and  eane  brakes.  The  night  was  dark, 
akvi,  IB  five  minutes  after  our  departure,  what  little  fight  the  stars  af- 
fi>ided,  was  completely  shut  out  by  the  canopy  of  vines  and  trees  over 
oar  heads.  For  more  than  twenty  miles  we  literally  plou^d  through 
tim  mud  and  water ;  sometimes  so  deep  as  to  reach  us  on  our  seats, 
upon  the  maU  bags. 

Our  driver  was  a  prominent  member  of  that  class  who  eschew  tern- 
panuiee  societi^,  and  abominal^  ail  its  advocates.  Having  exhansted 
the  mxpplj  with  whioh  he  had  provided  himself,  in  a  small  glass  flask, 
absut  two  of  the  clock  in  the  morning,  .he  stopped  at  a  bark  hut,  by 
liie  voad  side,  belonging  to  a  bear  or  panther  hunter,  and,  after  much 
hallooing,  succeeded  in  arousing  the  inmate,  who,  at  his  earnest  solici- 
tation,  fiirnished  him  with  a  drink  of  whiskey,  firom  a  broken  cup. . 
The  ordinary  greetings  having  beto  interchanged,  usual  between  such 
beauties,  on  we  went,  when  in  the  course  of  some  half  hour,  the  driver 
dropped  from  hie  seat  in  a  state  of  stupor. 

iQie  horses  wandered  to  the  side  of  the  path  and  came  to  a  halt^ 
Upon  consultation,  in  as  much  as  none  of  us  knew  the  road,  it  was  de- 
tomined  that  we  would  not  attampt  to  proceed  fiirther  till  morning, 
when^  it  was  hoped  that  the  driver  would  sufiSdently  recover  to  resume 
thelliMB. 

Aocevdiagiy,  we  built  a  fire  by  the  road  side,  m  the  tx>p  of  a  pros* 
ttete  eoMwwood)  by  which  we  c^ed  ourselves,  as  well  as  we  ooid^ 
tmi  were  enabled  to  keep  comfortably  warm,  althot^h  by  thie  time 
the  weadier  was  chilly, 

lAiig  wiAadiv  mioming  at  length  appeared,  the  driver  aroused^ftom 
Ua  drankea  snooae  in  the  mod  where  he  had  Ifdn,  the  horses  were 
hsougbl  into  lfa» roadagain,  the  passengers  resumed  their  damp  seats 
on  ths  bag%  and  the  United  Staites  maal  stage  moved  on, 

8eon  aMer  leavlisg  this  spot,  which  was,  in  fiict,  my  first  oamping 


100  TRAVELS  IN  THB  SOUTH  WEST. 

ground,  we  came  to  signs  of  cultivation  and  improvement ;  and  di* 
rectiy  at  the  bend  of  the  Arkansaw,  on  the  south  of  which  we  were 
traveling,  a  beautiful  sight  burst  upon  us.  The  sun  was  making  his 
appearance  above  the  tree  tops,  casting  his  rays  over  the  open  fielda, 
a  large  cotton  plantation  lay  stretched  out  before  us,  the  laborers  were 
already  out  gathering  the  last  open  boUes  of  the  season,  for  the  '^pick* 
ing  was  then  drawing  to  a  close. 

After  such  a  night,  it  was  gladdening  to  one's  heart  to  witness  a 
scene  of  life  and  partial  civilization.  We  passed  by  several  planta> 
tions  in  the  course  of  the  next  hour  or  two,  all  of  fine  appearance, 
with  good  houses  and  out  buildings.  As  before  remarked,  tiie  picking 
■eason  was  about  closing,  much  of  the  cotton  had  been  ginned  and  baled, 
and  was  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  waiting  a  ^  rise,"  to  be  taken  below. 

I  had  learned  from  CoL ^  that  most  of  these  plantations  belonged 

to  persons  who  resided  in  Tennesee.  Hie  proprietors  generally  come 
out  in  the  Spring,  to  assist  in  ^  picking^'  the  crop,  and  then  again  in 
the  fiill,  to  make  market  of  what  may  have  been  raised.  Tlie  balanee 
of  the  fine  plantation  is  left  to  the  management  of  overseers. 

My  heart  was  really  rejoiced,  when  I  was  ushered  into  a  finely  fur- 
nished room,  and  told  by  a  handsomely  dressed  lady  that  breakfitti 
would  soon  be  veady.  This  was  the  breakfiist  stand — ^ihe  houae  of  e 
planter,  one  who  did  not  keep  tavern  or  travelers,  but  had  consented 
to  furnish  meals  to  the  passengers,  as  an  inducement  for  the  mul  con- 
tractors to  come  this  road,  and  supply  a  post  ofiice  near  by. 

At  noon  we  readied  the  plantation  of  Col. ,  who  soon  had 

dinner  served  for  our  accommodation.  He  has  a  beautiful  plaoe— 
large  cotton  fields,  a  very  large  peach  orchard,  a  field,  of  some  GO  or 
60  acres,  I  should  suppose,  well  stocked  with  flourishing  trees,  while 
his  house,  at  this  late  season,  was  entirely  embowered  in  blossoms  of 
various  descriptions. 

It  was  midnight  when  we  drove  up  to  "  White's  tavern,''  when 
I  was  ushered  into  a  room  where  iher^  were  four  beds,  two  of 
which  were  occupied  by  two  persons  each.  Old  boots  and  broken 
bottomed  chairs  lay  scattered  about  in  great  confusion ;  a  sort  of  desk 
occupied  one  comer,  on  which  I  noticed  a  few  broken  bottles  and 
glasses,  a  dirty  book  or  two,  a  few  loose  papers,  and  bits  of  tallow 
candles.  The  fire  place,  which  took  up  two  thirds  of  our  end  of  the 
room,,  was  deep,  built  of  sticks,  mud,  and  small  stones ;  a  few  brands 
were  smouldering  in  the  embers.  Part  of  the  spade  between  two  of 
the  beds  was  occupied  by  a  round  table,  on  which  stood  a  candlestick^ 
with  a  flickering  candle  burning  near  the  socket  Two  men  in  their, 
shirt  sleeves,  of  slovenly  appearance,  were  sitting  at  this  table,  jttsl 


PILGRIMAOB  TO  ALDBBBBOOK.  1»1 

■       ---■■■  -  -  '  - 

* ■  -■■■■■■  ,-■--■-  ■-■■         ■■■  ■  .,- —  -  ^ 

• 

dosing  a  dispute,  which  had  arisen  about  the  result  of  a  game  thej 
had  been  playing.  One  of  the  parties,  the  smaller,  and.  apparently, 
the  weaker  of  the  two,  had  yielded,  I  inferred,  from  his  demeanor,  and 
the  other  was  about  upon  the  point  of  drawing  to  his  purse  the  small 
change  which  had  been  the  stake  in^  their  game.  A  few  muttering 
words  passed,  "v^en  the  winner,  afler  yawning  several  times,  indicated 
that  he  thought  it  time  to.  break  up  the  sitting,  to  which  propositiim 
the  other  gave  a  reluctant  assent. 

Pine  Bluffs,  so  called,  is  a  place  of  some  importance,  situtate  on  a 
rise  of  land,  as  its  name  would  indicate,  on  the  bank  of  the  Arkansaw, 
in  the  centre  of  a  fine  cotton  region.  There  are  many  more  goods 
■old  here  than  the  appearance  of  the  place  would  indicate.  But  tlua 
remark  will  apply  to  most  southern  towns.  In  slave  countries,  people 
do  not  congr^ate  into  villages,  as  in  the  north  and  west,  but  dissemin- 
ate over  large  districts.  They  manufacture  but  little,  getting  what  they 
need  in  this  way,  from  abroad,  hence  there  are  but  few  mechanici 
among  them,  save  blacksmiths,  and  carpenters,  and  coopers,  in  sugar 
regions,  who  are  owned  on  plantations.  A  town  in  the  west,  whera 
$800,000  worth  of  goods  are  yearly  sold,  will  contain  more  than  four 
times  the  number  of  inhabitants  of  one  ip  the  south,  selling  as  many, 
or  even  mor^,  than  that  amount. 


PILQRIMAQE  TO  ALDERBROOK. 

BT  0.  n.  EAIIDAIX,  B(|.|  0»  OOLDWATBB. 


^   [0(WCLUOB>.] 

Unlike  most  of  India's  missionaries,  she  had  been  spared  to  return 
to  her  father's  home  and  yield  up  her  last  sigh  to  the  blessed  air  of 
her  own  country,  with  her  father,  mother,  and  sister  by  her  side,  and 
was  buried  '*  amid  the  prayers  of  the  good  and  tears  of  the  loving.** 

But  Judson,  noble  Judson,  he  who  was  her  **  sunlight ;"  he  whom 
we  loved  next  to  our  dear,  immortal  Collins,  was  sleeping,  with  hit 
toils  all  past,  in  the  coral  groves  of  the  deep,  deep  sea.  How  a  thon- 
•and  beautiful  and  sad  associations  crowded  along  as  we  were  in  tkaf 
bouse.  It  may  seem  weakness — ^it  may  have  been  unmanly,  but  the 
tear  was  crushed  back  to  its  source,  and  we  smiled  with  pleasure  to 
the  interesting  sketches  Miss  Chubuck  gave  us  of  her  nster. 

We  were  shown  the  room  which  contained  Mrs.  Judson's  library 
and  pictures,  and  oriental  curiosities,  which  formed  a  perfect  museum. 
But  most  interesting  of  all  was  a  life-like  portrait  of  the  author  by 
that  poet4urti6t,  T.  Buchaimon  Read.     It  resembles  very  much  her 


'  in  FItiGBnCi.GS  TO  ALDERBEOOS. 

nkmcGB  in  her  **  Alderbrook.*^  But  this  is  so  life-like,  seemingly  ii 
et^uld  speak  from  the  canvass..  I  could  have  gazed  upon  it  nntil  now, 
so  beautiful  in  goodness  did  it  seem,  and  so  perfect  a  model  of  a  trua 
woman.  Bj  its  side  hangs  another  planting  by  the  same  artist. 
Truly,  in  painting  as  well  as  poetry,  Mr.  Read  can  have  few,  if  any, 
superiors.  Hiis  picture  is  a  fancy  one,  representing  a  scene  in 
^'Dora,'*  that  thrilling  story  of  Fanny's,  where  Dora  is  on  her 
knees  beseeching  that  she  may  go  with  the  musician.  Aunty  Evans 
tells  the  musician  to  retire  and  leave  them  alone  and  "  she  will  go 
with  you."  What  gives  the  picture  more  interest,  is  the  fkct  that  the 
*^ Aunty  Evans  "  of  the  likeness  of  the  mother  of  the  artist,  and  that 
of  the  musician  in  the  back  ground,  is  the  likeness  of  N.  P.  WiUis, 
who  presented  the  picture  to  the  author.  Hie  fiice  of  ^  Dora  "  is  ^ust 
such  an  one  as  poets  dream  of— beautiful  as  the  lily — ideal  as  an  an- 
gel. Hiat  of  Aunty  Evans,  by  her  noble  form  and  features,  uncon- 
sciously takes  us  back  to  the  worthy  and  honored  matrons  of  Rome 
and  Sparta.  On  the  table  lay  the  likeness  of  Fanny's  ^  little  bird,'* 
which  was  bom  in  India,  and  of  whom  she  has  sung  these  beautiftil 
lines: 

**  Boom  for  mj  bird  In  paredtief 
And  give  mj  angel  plunuige  there." 

Tliis  is  Emily  Frances.  It  is  a  sweet  lirtle  child,  and  taken  when  she 
was  about  four  years  of  age.  She  is  now  with  Mr.  Judson's  other 
children  in  Philadelphia.  Here  were  the  books  Fanny  loved  to  read, 
many  of  which  had  been  presented  by  her  literary  friends,  among 
whidi  we  noticed  a  beautiful  volume,  the  gift  of  T.  S.  Arthur.  In 
speaking  of  ^*  Dora,'^  Miss  Chubuok  sa^d,  *^  Sister  wondered  why  I  and 
others  liked  her  sketch  of  Dora  and  would  print,  for  she  thought  it 
the  most  silly  piece  she  ever  wrote.''  She  often  said,  ^^  it  is  strange' 
they  will  read  my  little  sketches  and  be  interested  in  them.''  Dear 
Fanny  Forester !  Her  little  stories  have  given  many  a  heart  lesBoaa 
whose  happy  impressions  vrill  last  forever.  Heroic  and  christian  Mrs. 
Judson !  The  story  of  her  self-sacrificing  life,  giving  up  all  for  th^' 
good  of  others,  will  ever  be  read  with  a  smile,  a  tear,  and  ^'  Giod  hUm 
her !"  by  those  who  will  appreciate  the  oharscter  of  a  true,  Moinhu 
Chbistian  WoiiAN,  and  the  suffering  cause  of  the  India  Missions.    * 

But  the  sun  was  sinking  westward  beyond  the  hills,  and  we  bads 
the  father  and  sister  of  Fanny  Forester  a  regretful  adieu,,  feeling  that 
we  should  ever  look  back  to  our  first  visit  there  and  to  Alderbrook,aa 
a  time  filled  with  many  "  sunny  memories."  But  should  I  again  vint 
Alderbrook,  let  it  be  as  she  has  said,  and  not  in  the  snowy  winter : 

«    MOoiDBlBtketydiistlsMteAMerbfooli^dearfMesiorBitoeiirhalft^er 


^^m  0f  Crahl 


VOL.  L]  MAY,  1867:  [KO.  5 


r 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


■T  BSV.  OaO.  DOFrULD,  D.  D. 


CHAPTER  Vni, 

/ 

They  are  arranged  in  the  rez  de  chaussee,  or  lower  level  of  the 
bnildings,  in  galleries  or  apartments  appropriated  to  Assyrian^ 
Egyptian,  Mexican,  Armenian,  Punic,  or  Algerine  antiques,  casts  of 
the  middle  ages,  and  revival  of  arts,  engravings  on  brass,  and  modem 
sculptures.  The  Assyrian  or  Egyptian  apartments  occupied  much  of 
my  time ;  and  the  statues,  vases,  bas-reliefs,  4cc.,  led  me  to  form  more 
vivid  ideas  of  the  idolatry  and  customs,  the  religious  and  domestic 
life,  of  these  ancient  nations.  The  mutilated  statue  of  Venus  de 
Milo,  still  bearing  the  traces  of  its  primitive  beauty,  and  by  most, 
made  an  object  of  adoration,  adorns  the  Grecian  and  Roman  apart- 
ments.    Five  halls  are  appropriated  to  modern  sculptures. 

A  second  division  comprises  paintings  of  the  great  masters  of  diifei^ 
exit  schools,  arranged  in  the  grand  saloon  of  the  first  story  above  the 
museum  of  antiqnes,  and  the  grand  gallery  which  unites  the  Louvre  to 
tile  Tuilleries.  From  the  lower  story,  yon  ascend  by  a  magnificent 
m^ble  stairease  into  the  Salle  Ronde,  remarkable  for  its  pavement  of 
Mosaic  work ;  thence  pass  to  the  ri^t,  into  the  splendid  Gallery  of 
Apollo ;  and  thence  again,  into  the  Salle  Carre,  containing  the  gems 
of  the  paintings,  and  so  admirably  arranged,  with  its  velvet  eushicNoed 
divans,  for  repose,  that  the  visitor  can  take  his  ease,  and  thus  find  a 
zest  to  his  enjoyment,  in  viewing  the  famous  prodiictiona  sf  the  pen^ 
dil  that  embellish  its  waCs,  or  '^  take  a  snooze,"  atd  I  observed  several 
fiit  old  French  ladies  doing.  The  long  gallery  containing  the  paintings 
of  the  older  Italian  Flemidi^  Spanish,  and  Frendi  scnools,  is  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  in  extent.    Here  and  tllere  1  cA>8erved  an  fkiglisik- 


NOTES  OF  FORBIGN  TRATEL. 


trayeller,  passing  from  tableau  to  tableau,  and  consulting  his  book^  as 
if  his  object  was  to  examine  the  accuracj  of  its  descriptions,  rather 
than  the  character  and  style  and  execution  of  the  paintings.  It  is  a 
wearisome  thing  to  pass  the  day  in  such  inspections,  and  I  was  quite 
satisfied  when  the  hour  for  withdrawal  arrived. 

Sept  \%th.  With  crowds  of  other  strangers,  we  pursued  our  way 
to  Versailles,  extolled  by  th^lS'rench  as  the  most  beautiful  city  of 
Europe.  It  rose  to  its  pride  and  grandeur  in  the  days  of  Louis  XIV., 
and  may  be  regarded  as  the  monument  of  the  lofty  and  luxurious  mag- 
nificence of  that  corrupt  and  haughty  tyrant. 

Two  lines  of  railroad  conduct  to  it,  one  on  either  side  of  the  Seine. 
We  took  that,  which  passes  N.  W.  from  Paris  to  Cleediy,  by  the  way 
we  entered  when  arriving  from  Rouen,  diverging  near  Amieres,  in  a 
westerly  disrection,  to  Courbevoie,  and  thence  S.  W.  by  St.  Cloudy 
lo  Versailles.  The  roa^  for  voitures  passes  near  the  river  in  a  more 
direct  course  through  Sevres.  The  somewhat  circuitous  route  of  the 
railroad  afforded  us  occasionally  very  fine  views  of  Paris  from  a  dis- 
tance, and  of  the  valley  through  which  the  Seine  flows,  the  latter  pre- 
senting often  rich  scenes  of  vineyards  and  horticultural  plantations 
that  furnish  fruit  and  v^etable  supplies  for  the  Parisian  market ;  but 
not  like  the  vicinage  .of  our  own  large  cities,  crowded  as  they  are  with 
numerous  habitations,  with  their  little  or  larger  farms  or  improve- 
ments about  them. 

We  had  but  a  passing  view  of  the  palace  of  St.  Cloud,  as  the  cars 
stopped  at  the  station.  The  President,  at  the  time,  had  left  Paris  and 
was  occupying  it,  which  forbade  the  entrance  of  visitors.  Its  situation 
is  very  fine.  As  the  place  of  Napoleon's  coiu"t  and  presence,  and  also 
of  Charles  X.,  whom  the  events  of  July  1830  forced  to  abandon  it, 
I  regretted  that  I  was  not  able  to  visit  and  inspect  the  halls  in  which 
their  transient  glory  had  shone  forth,  like  the  splendid  illuminations 
of  a  night 

Versailles,  under  Ix)uis  XIII.,  was  but  a  poor  village,  surrounded 
with  woods  and  marshes,  and  served  as  a  rendezvous  for  those  who 
were  fond  of  the  chase  and  entered  the  forests  of  Siunt  Germain  and 
Rambouillet  for  purposes  of  hunting.  A  pavilion,  erected  by  this 
monarch  for  his  own  accommodation  in  tiiis  respect,  was  the  com- 
mencement of  its  celebrity.  Having  been  made  by  Louis  XIV.  a 
fikvorite  spot,  embBUished  with  costly  buildings,  and  constituted  the 
place  of  his  court,  it  became  the  resort  of  lords  and  conrtiera,  and 
toe  seat  of  rich  and  sumptuous  abodes,  which  gave  to  it  an  air  of 
great  grandeur  and  magnificence.  From  the  reign  of  this  monarch  to 
tihedaysof  Louifl  XVI,  whatever  of  titled  greatness  and  illustrious  rank, 


PALACE  OF  VERSAILLES  195 

whether  from  wealth,  station  or  birth,  both  of  natives  and  foreigners  gave 
to  Versailles  an  activity  and  impulse,  and  a  display  of  extraordinary- 
luxury  which  attracted  such  an  amount  of  wealth  that  its  population 
increased  to  100,000,  while  at  present,  it  is  said,  it  does  not  much  ex- 
ceed 12,000.  It  is  but  the  shadow  of  its  former  greatness,  and  resem- 
bles more  a  deserted  village  than  a  ri^land  flourishing  city. 

Its  splendid  streets  radiate  from  the  Place  d'Armes  in  front  of  the 
palace,  much  in  the  style  of  the  avenues  that  start  from  the  Grand 
Qrcus  in  our  own  city  of  Detroit.  It  struck  me  as  soon  as  I  entered 
tMs  spacious  esplanade,  and  comprehended  the  plan  upon  which  its 
principal  streets  or  avenues,  so  spacious,  and  running  from  a  common 
centre,  have  been  laid  out,  that  the  projector  of  our  own  city.  Judge 
Woodward,  must  have  had  it  before  him  as  the  beau  ideal  of  the  city 
plat  begun  so  magnificently  by  him,  but  since  so  imperfectly  carried 
out. 

We  were  shown  several  fine  historical  paintings  which  had  been 
placed  on  vacant  walls  by  order  of  the  "  Prince  President,"  Napoleon, 
and  others  that  were  in  course  of  preparation  for  places  not  yet  occu- 
pied. The  p^ntings  in  the  different  saloons  and  galleries  so  luxuri- 
ously adorned  by  Louis  XIV.,  that  I  noticed  with  chief  interest,  were 
those  representing  various  scenes  and  events  in  his  life,  as  his  baptism, 
his  coronation,  his  marriage,  &;c.  The  historical  pictures  continue  the 
illustration  of  remarkable  events  in  the  annals  of  France,  from  the 
time  of  this  monarch  to  the  present  time,  the  victories  of  the  Repub- 
lic in  the  last  century,  the  campaigns  of  Napoleon,  the  reigns  of  Louis 
XVIII.,  Charles  X.  and  Louis  Phillippe,  and  the  revolution  of  1830. 
Hie  gallery  of  tKe  last  named  monai  ch  extends  through  a  suite  of 
10  rooms,  and  is  embellished  with  historical  paintings.  A  gallery  300 
feet  in  length  contains  the  busts,  statues,  and  monumental  effigies  of 
the  kings,  queens,  and  grand  personages  of  France  to  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV.  My  thoughts  were  solemn  as  I  wandered  through  this  ex 
teiisive  range  of  the  memorials  of  the  dead,  and  meditated  on  the 
crime  and  corruption  which  tarnished  the  glory  of  many.  A  feeling 
of  sadness  came  over  me  as  I  trod  the  apartments  frequented  by  the 
unhappy  Maria  Antoinette,  and  saw  her  couch  where  she  lay,  and  the 
secret  door  and  small  corridor  through  which  she  escaped  from  the 
imperial  mob  that  had  burst  into  the  palace.  What  crimes  and  scenes 
of  horror  could  these  walls  and  chambers  relate.  The  very  walls  are 
witnesses  alike  of  the  pride  of  the  oppressor  and  the  violence  of  ^ir 
opposers. 

The  grand  Galerie  des  Glaces,  or  de  Louis  XIV.,  Is  said  to  be  one 
of  the  finest  rooms  in  the  world.     Connecting  with  the  Salon  de  la 


IM  NOTBS  OF  FOBSIGK  TRAVEL 

Guarre  and  the  Salon  de  la  Piux,  the  halls  of  war  and  peace,  it  extends 
along  the  whole  central  facade,  some  242  feet  in  length,  and  is  35  wide 
and  44  high,  lighted  by  17  large  arched  windows  fronting  correspond- 
ing arches  on  the  opposite  side,  filled  with  splendid  mirrors.  Corin* 
thian  pilasters  of  red  marble,  with  bases  and  capitals  of  gilt  bronze, 
occupy  the  spaces  between  the  windows  and  arches ;  and  columns  of 
the  same  order  adorn  the  entrances.  The  ceiling  is  vaulted  and  divi- 
ded into  many  compartments  containmg  fresco  paintings  representing 
allegorically  the  piincipal  events  in  the  history  of  Louis  XIV.  Mar- 
ble statues  of  Venus  and  Adonis,  of  Minervs  and  Mercury,  fill  the 
niches.  This  hall  was  the  theatre  of  display  for  some  of  the  grandest 
fetes  of  this  haughty  monarcL  Through  one  of  the  doors  to  the  left 
is  the  entrance  to  the  private  apartments  of  the  king,  containing  still 
some  of  the  original  fiimitnre, — ^particularly  his  council  table  and  elbow 
diair.  There  is  also  a  dock  in  this  room  which  presents  the  figure  of 
this  monarch,  and  plays  a  chime  when  the  hour  strikes,  and  indicates 
the  days,  months,  years,  the  phases  of  the  moon,  and  the  regular  course 
of  the  planets.  It  was  in  this  room,  our  guide  told  us,  he  was  wont 
to  transact  business  with  his  cabinet  Here  he  received  Lord  Holing- 
broke,  here  introduced  his  grandson,  the  Duke  d'  Anjou,  as  their  king, 
to  the  grandees  of  Spain ;  here  he  signed  the  decree  which  expelled  the 
Jesuits  from  France  in  1762,  and  here  disgraced  himself  by  allowing 
hiB  female  favorite,  Madame  du  Berri,  to  sit  upon  the  arm  of  his  fisLU- 
teuil  in  the  presence  of  his  council  and  display  her  power  over  him. 

The  bed  chamber  of  this  monarch,  with  its  magnificent  decorations 
and  furniture,  is  preserved  as  it  was  at  the  time  of  his  decease.  The 
bed  on  which  he  died  is  enclosed  with  a  gilt  balustrade.  No  monarch 
of  France  has  since  slept  in  it ;  but  from  the  balcony  of  this  chamber 
Louis  XVL  attended  with  his  queen  and  children,  and  addressed  the 
exasperated  mob  who  came,  on  the  6th  of  October,  1789,  to  drag  him 
from  his  palace. 

But  I  must  have  done  with  this  splendid  palace,  not  one  half  of 
which  could  I  notice  with  more  than  a  cursory  glance,  as  I  passed  along 
with  the  guide  and  attendant  spectators.  It  would  require  days,  aiid, 
indeed,  weeks,  to  give  it  a  thorough  examination.  The  grounds  in 
front  of  this  palace  are  very  extensive,  and  the  soene  ocmibining  the 
variety  and  eSj^  of  garden  and  plantation,  of  numerous  fountains  and 
a  iHx>fuBion  of  statuary,  is  exceedingly  charming.  The  old  Roman 
deities  appear  in  all  theij  nakedness ;  and  groups  of  Tritons  and  syrens^ 
nymphs  and  children  adorn  the  basins,  from  the  centre  of  which  play 
jets  of  water.  I  observed  nothing  as  to  the  varieties,  &c,  of  the 
flpwem  on  the  parterre^  that  exceeded,  or  indeed  equalled  what  I  have 


GRAND  TRIANON.  191 


seen  in  private  gardens  in  our  own  country.  The  roses,  dahlias,  and 
different  autumnal  flowers,  looked  well,  but  were  not  specially  attract- 
ive. Tlie  orangerie  excited  my  chief  interest,  especially  as  it  has  so 
long  been  occupied  in  the  winter  season  by  the  orange  and  pomegran- 
ate trees,  still  remaining  in  their  places  along  the  walks  and  open  parts 
to  which  they  had  been  carried  in  the  spring.  A  collossal  statue  of 
Louis  XrV.  stands  in  the  midst  of  the  principal  green  house.  The 
orange  trees  are  very  ancient.  One  of  them,  called  le  grand  Bourbon, 
was  a  coteroporary  of  Francis  I.,  and  sprang  from  a  seed  sown  in 
1421,  by  I^onora  of  Castile,  wife  of  Charles  TIL,  king  of  Navarre. 
After  431  years  it  still  retains  its  vigor,  its  branches  being  supported 
by  iron  rings. 

From  the  palace  I  passed  alrng  the  parterres  and  walks  in  the  plan- 
tation, surveying  the  basins,  fountains  and  statuary,  on  my  way  to  the 
Grand  Trianon,  a  villa  at  the  extremity  of  the  park  of  Versailles, 
built  by  Louis  XIV.  for  Madame  de  Maintenon.  It  is  after  the  Ital- 
ian plan,  consisting  of  one  story,  and  has  wings  connected  by  a  long 
gallery  with  seven  arcades,  and  fronted  with  beautiful  coupled  Ionic 
columns  and  pilasters  of  Languedoc  marble.  It  is  remarkable  for  its 
taste  and  retirement.  In  passing  through  the  apartments  of  this 
palace,  we  were  shown  the  chamber  and  bed  of  Napoleon,  after  bis 
marriage  with  Maria  Louisa,  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  also  of  Josephine, 
with  the  working  table  and  furniture  bestowed  by  her  ambitious  and 
<iruel  husband,  the  aspiring  Emperor.  The  decorations  of  the  apart- 
ments are  very  rich ;  some  fine  pieces  of  sculpture  adorn  the  grounds, 
which  are  laid  out  in  groves  and  cut  into  labyrinths.  The  petit  Tria- 
non is  situated  at  the  extremity  of  the  garden  of  the  former,  but  I  had 
grown  weary,  and  cared  not  to  visit  it.  On  my  way  thence  I  entered 
the  building  containing  the  carriages  of  state,  and  saw  those  of  Napo- 
leon, Charles  X.  and  Louis  Philippe,  with  the  sledges  and  sedan  chairs, 
saddles,  and  various  costumes  used  by  royalty. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Paesporis — Church  of  St.  Sulpiee — Jardin  des  Plants — Mimufaciare  des  Oobdi'M,  • 

Sbpt.  17.  The  weather  to-day  has  been  so  unpleasant,  after  the 
bright  sun  of  yesterday,  that'  I  declined  going  elsewhere  than  to  repeat 
my  visit  to  the  Egyptian  museum  in  the  Louvre ;  and  that  I  might 
-see  the  operation  of  the  passport  system,  I  attended  personally,  in- 
stead of  by  commissaire,  at  the  police  office,  to  have  mine  vizeed. 
'*niere  were  crowds  of  attendants,  and  numerous  officers.     We  were 


\ 


198  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAYEL. 

passed  from  one  clerk  to  another  and  then  required  to  be  seated,  until 
finally,  after  our  passports  having  been  subjected  to  several  examina* 
tions  by  different  authorities,  the  police  stamp  was  put  upon  them  and 
they  were  delivered  to  us.  It  is  matter  of  great  surprise  to  see,  the 
immense  labor  and  expense  here  deemed  essential  to  the  peace  and 
welfare  of  society ;  but  which  are  rendered  totally  unnecessary,  and, 
indeed,  would  not  be  submitted  to,  in  the  United  States.  It  is  a  rast 
system  of  espionage  and  oppression,  and  well  befits  those  countries 
that  are  cursed  by  the  system  of  auricular  confession  and  a  prying 
priesthood.  "  The  powers  that  be "  seem  to  live  in  terror  of  their 
subjects,  in  terror  of  strangers,  and  levy  an  onerous  tax  for  no  justi- 
fiable cause. 

18th.  The  Church  of  St.  Sulpice  is  one  of  the  chief  parish  churches 
in  Paris.  It  is  a  splendid  structure,  begun  about  200  years  ago.  A 
portico  composed  of  a  double  row  of  Doric  columns,  some  40  feet 
high,  extends  across  the  entire  front.  A  gallery  and  colonnade  of 
Ionic  columns  rest  on  this;  A  tower  rises  from  either  end,  one  lar- 
ger and  loftier  than  the  other,  and  rising  to  the  height  of  210  feet.  Li 
the  interior,  aisles  surrounding  both  nave  and  choir,  and  chapels  oc- 
cupy each  arcade.  Two  enormous  shells  of  the  largest  tridachna  gigas 
supported  by  curious  marble  rock  work,  stand  near  the  entrance  and 
form  the  basins  or  fountains  for  the  "  holy  water.''  Statuary  and 
paintings  adorn  the  chapels,  and  richly  carved  wainscotting  the  sac- 
risty. Stained  glass,  representing  the  Lord's  Supper,  ornaments  the 
window  in  one  of  the  chapels,  in  which  also  a  marble  monument  ex- 
hibits the  prelate  kneeling  on  a  sarcophagus,  and  an  angel  chasing 
death  from  his  side.  The  ornaments  of  the  pulpit,  the  twelve  magni- 
ficent columns  supporting  the  organ  gallery,  and  the  carved  work  of 
the  organ  itself,  showing  numerous  figures  playing  on  musical  instru- 
ments or  bearing  cornucopias,  are  among  the  richest  works  of  art  I 
have  seen  in  the  churches  here.  But  the  more  I  see  of  these  adorn- 
ments, in  places  designed  for  worship  in  these  Catholic  countries,  the 
more  they  seem  to  me  to  be  utterly  at  war  with  the  simplicity  of 
Christ,  and  the  very  spirit  of  His  religion.  No  plea  for  such  things, 
founded  on  the  benefit  accruing  in  the  cultivation  of  a  taste  for  the 
fine  arts,  or  improvement  in  them,  can  ever  justify  or  excuse  such  a 
wanton  violation  of  the  very  letter  and  spirit  of  the  second  command- 
ment. 

From  the  Church  of  St.  Sulpice  1  repaired  to  the  Ecole  de  Medi- 
cine, and  thence  to  the  Jardin  des  Plants. 

The  Ecole  de  Medicine  is  an  Institution' of  the  highest  celebrity.   Ita 
buildings  are  spacious,  and  its  museum  of  great  v^ue.     The  fiiculty 


JABDIN  DKS  PLANta  19§ 


of  medicine  and  the  sohool  of  surgery  are  anited,  and  the  spacious 
buildings,  fronting  198  feet,  with  lateral  wings,  connected  by  aportioa 
formed  of  a  double  range  of  coupled  Ionic  columns,  intercepted  by  an 
arched  entrance  leading  into  a  rectangular  court,  present  a  specimen 
of  elegant  architecture.  The  arched  entrance  is  surmounted  by  a  bafl> 
Felief,  representing  Louis  XV.,  accompanied  by  Wisdom  and  Benevo* 
lence,  granting  privileges  to  the  School  of  Sui^ery  ;  and  the  Genius 
of  Art,  presenting  to  the  king  a  plan  of  the  building. 

The  amphitheatre  wiU  contain  1400  students.  The  lectures  deliv- 
ered here  are  numerous,  and  all  gratuitous,  There  is,  perhaps,  no 
better  place  in  the  world  for  a  student  to  acquire  a  medical  education. 

The  museum  of  comparative  anatomy  w^ill  afford  the  most  interest- 
ing opportunity  for  careful  study.  Here  are  to  be  seen  'skeletons  of 
all  the  larger  animals,  and  specimens  of  the  various  organs ;  those  of 
the  acoustic  organs  of  small  mammalia,  in  two  gilt  frames.  The  ner- 
vous  and  muscular  systems,  and  especially  of  the  fiith  pair  of  senses 
in  the  human  head,  are  truly  astonishing  for  their  execution.  A  series 
of  embryology,  and  the  eye,  the  organs  of  taste  and  smell,  the  digest- 
ive organs,  the  lymphatic  system,  and  specimens  of  all  sorts,  afford 
&cilities  for  study,  of  great  value  to  students  of  medicine.  These 
museums  are  thrown  open  to  visitors  generally  on  Mondays  and  Thurs- 
days, but  to  strangers  and  students  daily. 

The  Jardin  des  Plants  is  a  most  attractive  place  tor  visitation.  I 
could  have  spent  days  in  it  with  profit  and  delight. 

It  is  an  admirable  institution  for  the  student  of  natural  science, 
the  like  of  which  is  unknown  in  our  c«>untry.  It  was  founded  by 
Louis  Xm.,  more  than  200  years  ago,  and  among  the  illustrious  schol- 
ars whose  zeal  and.  learning  contributed  to  the  prosperity  of  this 
establishment,  the  name  of  BufFon,  the  celebrated  naturalist,  has  mer 
ited  applause.  As  its  superintendent,  the  Jardin  des  Plants  enjoyed 
the  benefit  of  his  zeal  and  devotion.  It  is  under  the  control  of  the 
government,  and  comprises,  first,  a  botanical  garden,  with  spacious 
hot  houses  and  green  houses,  in  which  the  student  of  botany  may  see 
and  study  the  growth  and  character  of  almost  every  variety  of  plant. 
Each  one  is  labelled  with  its  appropriate  scientific  name,  according  to 
its  general  and  specific  classification.  Next,  there  are  various  glo- 
ries, in  which  mineralogical,  botanical,  and  zoological  collections  are 
scientifically  arranged.  Also,  a  menagerie  of  living  animals  of  differ* 
ent  countries  and  climates — a  library  of  natural  history — and  an 
amphitheatre  with  laboratories  for  public  lectures  on  every  branch  of 
science  connected  with  natural  history.  These  lectures  are  delivered 
by  pro&ssors,  appointed  and  paid  for  the  purpose,  and  are  both  public 
and  gratuitous. 


tO#  NOTES  09  FORBiaK  TEAYEL. 


From  the  Jardin  des  Plants,  I  went  to  the  Manufaciwrt  dei  €hb&- 
Imm,  a  maaufiujtory  of  carpet  and  tapestry.  It  is  situated  in  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Marcel,  and  takes  its  name  from  a  celebrated  dyer  of  wool 
by  the  name  of  Jean  Gobelin,  who,  some  four  centuries  ago,  acquired 
considerable  property  in  the  neighborhood,  and  whose  descendants 
oontinHed  his  trade  with  great  success.  The  operataves  were  at  woric 
in  their  shops  as  we  passed  through,  and  treated  the  vifiators  with  re- 
spect, while  they  ceased  not  from  their  labors.  I  had  no  idea  such 
perfect  work  could  be  produced  by  human  skill.  The  warp  of  the 
tapestry  work  is  placed  vertically,  and  the  workman  stands  at  the 
back  of  the  canvass,  with  his  pattern  behind  him  for  reference  in  ad- 
justing his  colors.  The  carpet  work  is  of  the  richest  sort,  and  said  to 
surpass  the  Persian  in  the  evenness  of  its  surface,  and  in  the  fineness 
and  strength  of  its  texture. 

I  was  told  that  it  takes  from  five  to  ten  years  to  make  some  of  the 
carpets,  and  at  a  cost  of  from  60,000  to  150,000  francs.  About  120 
workmen  are  employed  in  the  establishment.  They  receive  from  M- 
te^i  to  twenty-five  hundred  francs  a  year;  and,  when  disabled  by  age 
or  infirmity,  a  pension  of  from  six  hundred  to  one  thousand  francs 
annually.  The  productions  of  this  establishment,  which,  since  Louis 
XIV.,  belongs  to  the  government,  are  chiefly  designed  for  the  palaces 
of  the  State.  The  dyeing  of  the  wool  is  under  the  direction  of  able 
chemists ;  and  shades  of  color  are  produced  which  are  not  to  be  found 
in  the  market.  It  is  surprising  with  what  accuracy  and  skill  the  paint- 
er's art  is  here  imitated.  A  School  of  Design,  and  an  annual  course 
of  chemical  lectures,  as  applicable  to  dyeing,  are  connected  with  the 
establishment.     Science  and  art  are  here  successfully  combined. 

In  returning  we  took  a  cabriolet  to  convey  us  to  our  hotel. 
There  being  but  few  in  attendance,  and  very  late  in  the  afternoon, 
not  far  from  the  dinner  hour  at  our  hotel,  amid  the  general  rxish 
of  visitors  for  conveyances,  we  were  not  very  particular  in  our 
search,  but  took  the  first  whose  driver  offered  his  services.  He  had 
not  be^i  on  his  box  two  minutes,  till  I  saw  that  the  fellow  was  drunk, 
and  I  became  alarmed  lest  in  his  oscillations  he  would  tip  off  his  seat. 
But  he  cracked  his  whip,  cut  up  his  horse,  and  pushed  him  forward  at 
rapid  speed,  turning  comer  after  comer,  and  sometimes  mnning  against 
the  wheels  of  carts  and  other  conveyances  he  passed,  until,  to  my 
great  relief  from  trepidation,  and  by  the  quickest  and  shortest  route, 
he  stopped  at  the  gate  of  our  hotel  in  the  Rue  Viviennee,  as  fuU  of  &- 
eetious  politeness,  and  as  brisk  in  displaying  it,  as  any  Frenchman 
could  be.  After  being  paid  his  tax,  he  dofifed  his  bonnet,  and,  readi- 
ing  forth  his  hand,  smilingly  made  his  demand  for  a  few  sous  in  addi- 


SABBATH  IK  PARia  301 


tioB,  as  he  said  ^  pour  boire."  I  laughed  and  told  him  he  alreadj  had 
too  much  ^  pour  boire,''  and  charged  him  to  get  and  keep  himself 
vober.  This  fellow  was  the  onlj  person  I  had  yet  met  or  seen  in  Paris, 
Idiat  was  drunk  or  bordering  on  drunkenness.  He  must  have  had  mm, 
or  brandj,  or  something  beyond  the  low  wines  or  "  vin  ordinaire," 
generally  used  as  a  beverage  here ;  for  they  are  so  light,  and  possess 
90  little  of  alcohol  or  the  intoxicating  principle,  that,  as  Baxter  said  <^ 
some  of  1^  common  drunkards  in  his  day,  who  became  intoxicated 
on  beer,  they  must  have  barrels  for  stomachs,  to  hold  enough  to  make 
them  drunk.  He  looked  so  much  like  an  Irishman  that  at  first  I  thooglit 
be  must  be  one,  giving  him  credit  fur  the  propensity  of  his  nation ; 
bat  I  found  he  was  a  genuine  Frenchman.  The  common  Celtic  origin, 
however,  was,  by  my  mistake  tit  first,  rendered  aflerward  more  strik- 
ing. 

I  have  spent  eight  days  in  Paris,  and,  except  on  Sabbaths, 
have  been  industriously,  in  all  that  time,  visiting  various  objects  and 
places  of  historical  and  other  public  interest-.  I  have,  however,  seen  only 
a  small  part  of  it,  yet  have  1  seen  enough  to  satisfy  me.  As  to  its  public 
places  of  amusement,  its  theatres,  circuses,  &c.,  as  they  excite  nothing 
but  a  painfiil  interest  in  my  mind,  so  I  cared  not  even  to  see  where 
they  were ;  nor  do  I  remember  having  passed  one  of  them.  The  dis- 
sipation of  mind  and  heart  they  produce,  and  the  havoc  they  make  in 
the  morals  of  the  community  wherever  they  are,  have  long  since,  even 
from  my  15th  year,  when  I  resolved  never  more  to  enter  one,  oon- 
vinoed  me  that  they  are  mere  fountains  of  pestiferous  influence,  which 
no  Christian  many  or  minister  of  Christ  should  ever  speak  of  but  in 
terms  of  decided  disapprobation.  Nevertheless,  1  feel  happy  that  I 
am  not  the  judge  of  my  neighbor ;  and,  therefore,  withhold  my  con- 
demnation of  others,  who  differ  from  me  in  their  opinion  of  such  pla- 
fies,  and  who  apologize  for  the  stage.  But,  to  my  mind,  the  theatre, 
whether  in  the  United  States,  Great  Britain,  France,  Italy,  or  any 
where  else,  is  evil  and  only  evil,  and  that  continually.  To  resort  to 
it,  or  visit  it  as  a  place  of  recreation  or  amusement,  as  I  read  the  sacred 
Scriptures,  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  of  ihe  religion  of 
Jesus  Cairist  and  the  obligations  of  professing  Oiriatians. 

In  Paris  the  Roman  Catholic  churches  are  but  theatres.  The  acting 
is  indeed  of  a  different  character  from  that  in  dramatic  representations, 
but  the  whole  ritual  of  the  mass  is  theatrical,  and  all  the  images  and 
ornaments,  and  pictures  in  the  churches,  the  gorgeous  drapery  and 
adornment  of  the  altar,  all  the  dressings  and  undressings,  adorations, 
^nuflexions  and  processions  of  priests,  elevation  of  the  host,  &c.,  are 
wholly  scenical,  designed  as  expressly  for  effect  as  are  the  various 


' 


MS  NOTES  UP  FOBEIG^N  TRAVELl 


of  the  drama.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  influenoe  of  the  Gath* 
olic  Cburch,  therefore,  is  of  kindred  character  with  the  theatre;  nor 
that  the  priesthood  and  the  altar  have  as  little  moral  potency,  as  have 
professlonAl  aotors  and  the  stage,  for  the  preservation  and  improve- 
ment of  public  morals.  The  Sabbath  in  Paris  is  a  day  of  general 
jollity  and  gaiety.  Multitudes  of  shops  are  kept  open  during  the 
greatest  part  of  the  day ;  and  when  the  generality  are  dosed,  it  would 
seem  to  be  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  delights  of  promenading  the 
streets,  especially  the  Boulevards  and  Champs  Ely  sees,  of  visiting  the 
public  places  of  resoi*t,  of  lounging  in  the  cafes,  and  indulging  in  vari- 
ous forms  of  social  hilarity.  There  are  but  a  few  places  of  worslup 
where  the  spiritual  truths  of  religion  are  taught.  In  the  Episcopal 
Church)  Rue  d'Aguesseau  Faubourg  St.  Honore;  in  the  Episcopal 
Chapel,  Avenue  Marbeuf ;  in  the  French  Independenti,  Rue  de  Pro- 
vence ;  in  the  Wesleyan  Chapel,  Rue  Royal,  St.  Honore,  and  in  the 
British  and  American  Church,  as  it  is  called,  on  Rue  Chauchat,  near  the 
Boulevards  des  Italiennes,  there  is  preaching  in  the  English  laiiguage  ; 
vbut  all  are  not  sufficient  to  accommodate  the  English  and  American, 
travelers  and  residents  in  Paris,  often  amounting  to  thousands. 

The  city  of  Paris  was  originally  built  upon  a  small  island  in  the 
River  Seine,  on  which  stands  the  Cathedral  Church  cf  Notre  Dame ; 
but  it  now  spreads  to  the  extent  of  iiileen  miles  in  circumference,  and 
contains  a  population  of  1,200,000  souis.  Its  streets,  avenues,  boule- 
vards, barriers,  bridges,  quays,  and  public  establishments  are  very 
numerous.  Among  the  former,  of  the  most  lively  are  the  Rue  St. 
Honore,  Vivienne,  Richelieu,  Ncuve  des  petit  Champs,  and  the  Boule- 
vards, from  the  Church  of  the  Magdalen  to  the  vicinity  of  the  Bureau 
de  Exchange,  near  the  termination  of  the  Rue  Vivienne. 

A  stranger  from  the  United  States  cannot  but  be  surprised  in  view 
of  the  public  provision  made  for  the  relief  of  sudden  calls  of  nature. 
They^may  at  first  shock  the  delicacy  of  English  and  American  travel- 
ers, but  it  will  soon  be  obvious  that  in  relation  to  them  there  seems 
to  be  by  no  means  that  peculiar  sensitiveness,  and  similar  ideas  of  pro- 
priety with  those  prevalent  among  us,  in  our  large  cities,  where  neg- 
lect oi  such  arrangements'^altogether,  serves  to  produce  the  vulgarity, 
filth  and  indecencies  which  shock  us.  Whatever  may  be  the  character 
of  this  gay  city,  and  of  its  mercurial  population,  for  licentiousness  and 
voluptuousness,  I  must  say  that,  during  the  short  time  I  was  in  it,  I 
never  witnessed  any  of  those  manifestations  of  lewdness  so  frequent 
in  New  York  and  otiher  of  our  large  American  cities,  nor  anything 
that  would  shock  the  sensibilities  of  the  chaste  and  mod^t.  It  is  pro- 
per, however,  to  remark  that  I  visited  none  of  the  public  gardens  on 


SABBATH  SSBYICE.  MS 


the  Sabbath  eYening,  nor  any  of  the  Bastringues  and  Guinguettes  or  eat- 
ing houaea^  outside  the  barriers  of  Paris,  where  those  fond  of  living 
pictures,  1  learned,  might  witness  crowds  of  "workmen,  with  their  wives 
or  sweethearts,  filling  the  principal  streets  of  the  suburbs,  lined  with 
stalls  for  the  sale  of  gingerbread,  walking  cooks  who  sell  pancakee, 
fried  potatoes  and  other  delicacies  for  the  vulgar  taste,  while  here  and 
there  a  fiddle  or  organ  squeak  or  grind  music  amid  the  universal  din 
of  talk  and  laughter  filling  the  air. 

19th,  Attended  divine  service  to-day,  in  the  Wesleyan  Chapel  on 
Rue  Royale,  and  heard  the  Rev.  Mr.  Winans  preach  an  excellent  dia- 
course,  on  the  words,  "  I  thought  on  my  ways  and  turned  my  feet 
unto  thy  testimonies."  The  subject  was  the  advantage  of  self  reflec- 
tion. Here  I  had  the  pleasure  to  meet  Mrs.  Wilson,  of  Philadelphia^ 
"whom  I  once  saw  in  that  city,  but  did  not  at  first  recognize  her.  She 
knew  me,  however,  and,  in  the  spirit  of  true  friendship  and  politenesSy 
made  herself  known  to  me.  I  learned  from  her  somewhat  of  the 
whereabouts  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Barnes  and  his  family,  now  on  this  conti- 
nent, from  which  I  entertain  a  hope  that  I  may  meet  them  somewhere 
in  It-ely.  The  incident  was  as  pleasant  to  my  feelings  as  any  I  had 
met  in  Paris. 

The  congregation  attending  on  Mr.  Winans'  preaching  was  large — 
"chiefly  English.  I  happened,  both  on  this  Sabbath  and  the  last,  to  be 
ihrown  near  a  young  man  whose  appearance,  and  manners,  and  atten- 
tion to  the  sermon  deeply  interested  me,  so,  much  so  that  I  felt  em- 
boldened,  at  the  close  of  the  service,  to  take  him  by  the  hand,  and 
express  to  him  my  Christian  salutations,  which  he  reciprocated  very 
promptly  and  cordially,  acknowledging  himself  to  be  a  follower  of 
Christ,  and  rendering  to  me  his  thanks  for  the  discourse  he  had  heard 
me  deliver  in  the  chapel  the  last  Sabbath  evening.  How  precious  did 
the  grace  of  God  appear,  which,  in  such  a  gay,  licentious,  and  corrupt 
city  as  this,  can  preserve  a  youth  of  18  years  of  age  from  the  snares 
which  on  every  side  are  spread  for  the  feet  of  the  young. 


CHAPTER  X 

T^  Valley  of  the   Y<mM—BotUe  of  Travel  to  MarseiUes—A  French.  DiUigerM-^ 
Bomtc  to  Oeneoch^Geneva — FOsapori^-^Chambari^ — Ascent  of  MofU  Onii9. 

Sept.  21,  1852.— Gknbva.  I  lefl  Paris  yesterday  A.  M.,  at  10*30, 
by  the  rail  road  to  Lyons,  and  reached  Dijon  about  6.30,  P.  M.,  hav- 
ing  traveled,  a  distance  of  196  English  miles,  into  the  south  of  Franco. 
The  course  of  the  road,  after  leaving  the  valley  of  the  Seine,  waa 


204  NOTBS  OP  FOBBIGN  TRATBL. 

V  — ■ 

along  that  of  the  Yonne,  which  empties  into  the  Beine.  It  pam 
through  Melon,  Villeneuve  sur  la  Yonne,  Joigny,  Montbard,  &c.  IHib 
passage  from  the  valley  up  into  the  table  land  is  made  thronf^ 
three  tunnels — one  a  very  large  one.  Its  character  is  much  tte 
same  with  that  of  the  latter.  The  road  winds  its  way  through  a  valley, 
sometimes  widening  extensively,  and  at  others  contracting,  ito 
northern  side  being  covered  with  vineyards.  The  grapes  prindpaBy 
cultivated,  are,  the  white  round  grape,  resembling  our  sweet  water,  and 
is  of  the  chassel  las  variety,  as  I  should  judge  from  a  passing  iospeo- 
tion,  and  occasional  eating.  - 

The  vineyards,  at  a  distance,  resemble  our  fields  of  Indian  com,  be- 
fore it  has  thrown  out  its  tassels.  The  vines  are  planted  in  regular 
rows,  and  tied  to  stakes,  which  are  hidden  by  the  foliage.  Hie  ro^ 
are  from  three  to  four  feet  apart,  and  the  vines  in  them,  from  eighteen 
inches  to  three  feet — a  wider  space  being  left  between  the  rows  than 
between  the  vines.  From  the  time  that  we  reached  the  higher  ground 
ascending  from  the  valley,  and  had  passed  through  several  tunnels, 
the  grape  less  seldom  became  visible.  From  Dijon  I  noticed  D(Xia 
'  after  we  had  passed  into  the  mountainous  region,  till  we  descended  and 
watered  the  plain  along  the  shore  of  Lake  Leman. 

From  Paris  to  Dijon,  the  direction  of  the  railroad  is  in  general  S. 
E.;  but  at  Dijon  it  bends  to  the  S.  towards  Chalon,  upon  the  SaoDa. 
Thence  steamboats  take  passengers  down  this  river  to  Lyons,  and 
from  Lyons,  doMfti  the  Rhone,  to  Avignon,  from  which  place  I  learned 
that  the  railroad  was  completed  to  Marseilles.  Passage  can  be  had 
thence  to  Geneva  by  steamboat,  or  to  Nice  and  other  places.  I  ascer- 
tained that  the  "  Prince  President,"  as  he  is  called,  had  a  few  days 
before  I  left  Paris,  passed  thence,  on  a  tour  through  the  southern  part 
of  France.  I  presume  this  tour  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  measurea  he 
is  evidently  pursuing,  for  having  himself  declared  Emperor  before 
long.  I,  therefore,  took  it  for  granted  that  there  would  be  a  great 
rush  of  the  people  to  the  towns  through  which  he  would  pass*;  since, 
both'  in  England  and  France,  I  see  that  the  masses  love  to  gaze  upon 
poor  mortals  "  dressed  up  with  a  little  brief  authority."  Petitions 
had  been  circulated,  both  in  Paris  and  in  the  south,  invoking  him  to 
assume  a  control  of  the  government,  which  would  give  it  greater  effi- 
ciency and  stability  than  it  now  poalbooos  as  a  Republio.  Expectation 
was  all  awake.  To  my  regret  and  disappointment  therefore,  I  changed 
my  route  of  travel,  in  order  to  escape  from  the  inconvenience  and  an- 
noyances I  should  have  to  wioounter,  should  I  pursue  my  original  couisb 
•to  Marseilles,  and  be  thrown  in  ihe  whirl  and  eddies  of  the  population 
floating  from  all  quarters  around  his  motions.    This  change  of  purpose 


yiGTORIES  OF  SESOSTBin&  306' 

caused  me  to  diverge  at  Dijon,  before  I  should  reach  the  vortex,  and 


ly  hj  a  quieter  route,  through  Switzerland  and  Savoy,  into  Italy, 
and  thus  give  me  a  view  of  the  population  and  country  of  that  part  of 
£urope,  so  iull  of  importance,  both  in  its  religious  and  political  his- 
tory. Had  1  extended  my  journey  to  ChaJon,  I  should  have  encoun^ 
tered  the  main  route  of  travel  from  Lyons,  through  Chamberry,  to 
Turin,  and  left  Geneva  to  the  north,  from  which  I  ascertained  a  branch 
line  of  Diligences  connects  with  the  Lyons  and  Chalon  route  at  Cham- 
berry,  and  unless  I  should  have  previously,  by  despatch  from  Geneva, 
taken  my  passage  there,  1  might  be  detained  several  days.  A  part  of 
the  journey  from  Dijon  I  found  would  have  to  be  performed  in  the 
night ;  but  taking  all  things  into  consideration,  to  avoid  unpleasant 
oontingencies,  I  took  my  passage  at  Paris  to  Geneva,  in  what  is  called 
the  ooupee  of  the  diligence,  which  is  several  francs  dearer,  but  far 
more  comfortable  for  traveling,  both  in  the  night  and  in  the  day,  than 
is  the  interior  of  the  diligence. 

These  ^1  diligences,"  as  they  are  called,  are  singularly  constructed, 
totally  unlike  anything  we  have  in  the  United  States.  The  old  &sh- 
ioned  enormous  stage  coaches  of  the  *'*'  Good  Intent "  line,  from  Phila- 
delphia to  Pittsburg,  in  point  of  capacity,  come  nearer  tn  them  than 
any  other  of  our  quondam  stage  conveyances. 

The  ^'  diligence  "  is  an  immense  stage  coach,  divided  into  four  com- 
partments, totally  separate  from  each  other.  The  forward  part,  called 
the-  coupee,  contains  but  one  bench,  and  acoommodatds  only  three  per 
8on8«  It  has  large  glass  windows  in  front,  and  on  the  sides,  and  is 
fitted  up,  internally,  much  after  the  plan  of  the  old  fashioned  carria- 
ges I  remember  in  my  young  days,  called  chariots,  in  which  the  rich 
and  great,  especially  of  the  female  sex,  preferred  to  ride.  The  middle 
part,  called  the  interieury  is  fitted  up,  like  our  post  coach,  with  two 
bendies,  to  accommodate  six  passengers,  who  ride  vis-a-vis.  Behind 
this'is  the  third  apartment,  called  the  rotonde  or  ie  derriere,  which  also 
aocommodates  six  passengers.  Over  the  coupee  is  the  fourth  part, 
called  the  banqueiie^  which  contains  room  for  three  persons,  in  which, 
also,  rides  the  ^'  conductor,"  who  passes  from  one  end  of  the  route  to 
the  other,  as  a  sort  of  general  supercargo  and  general  agent,  having 
control  of  the  drivers,  and  regulating  all  matters  pertaining  to  the 
progress  of  the  diligence,  and  the  care  of  the  passengers.  The  ban- 
quelle  is  desirable  only  in  pleasant  summer  weather,  as  it  affords  a  fine 
opportunity  of  seeing  the  country ;  but  it  can  also  be  protected  by  a 
top  or  covering  that  rises  and  &lls,  and  affords  shelter  in  stormy  wea- 
ther. Passengers  are  allowed  40  to  50  lbs.  weight  of  baggage  only, 
without  extra  diarge.    They  are  assigned  their  seats,  and  take  tjieir 


lOS  NOTES  or  FOREIGN  TRATEL. 

pUcea,  as  numbered  on  the  receipt  they  get  when  they  take  their  pa»- 
tge.  Genwally  one-half  the  fere  is  paid  down,  at  taking  the  passage; 
the  receipt  designates  the  place  and  time  of  departure.  The  conduc- 
teur,  before  starting,  calls  the  roll,  and  sees  that  every  passenger  has 
kis  place. 

ITio  diligence  in  which  we  were  to  travel,  started  along  witii  us  from 
Paris,  and  loaded  with  our  baggage,  and  all  the  other  freight,  which 
the  enormous  vehicle  was  destined  to  carry,  wns  mounted  on  an  open 
truck  or  car,  and  formed  part  of  the  train  with  which  we  started. 
Upon  arriving  at  Dijon,  it  was  transferred  from  its  position  and  placed 
on  the  road,  to  which  four  horses  were  very  epeodily  attached,  with 
two  postilions,  dressed  in  a  sort  of  old  fashioned  regimentals,  with 
ohapcaux  de  bras,  who  mounted  the  animals,  and,  with  whip  and  spur, 
urged  them  forward  at  the  greatest  speed,  each  one  guiding  his  own 
^an.  At  first  1  was  under  apprehension,  lest  they  would  not  be  able 
to  keep  the  diligence  on  the  road,  or  that  some  accident  might  happen 
to  it;  but  soon  found  that  they  managed  it  as|dexterousIy  as  do  our  dri- 
vers, with  their  four  reins  in  their  hands  iind  seated  on  the  coach. 

These  postillions,  or  drivers,  at  the  end  of  their  different  stage 
routes,  or  exchanges,  are  sure  to  present  themselvea  and  beg  lustily 
from  the  passengers,  "  pour  boire  " — a  great  nuisance. 

Dijon,  from  what  little  opportunity  I  had  to  take  a  passing  view  of 
it,  seemed  to  be  on  old  fiishioned  town  of  some  tolerable  extent,  con- 
taining probably  30,000  to  35,000  inhabitants.  It  is  surrounded  by 
ramparts,  and  has  five  environs.  Here  is  a  palace  of  the  Princes 
Conde,  and  a  eastle  of  ancient  date,  used  now  as  a  barracks,  [t  is  a 
manufacturing  town ;  but  depends  chiefly,  as  I  learned,  on  its  wine 
trade,  being  a  depot  for  Burgundy  wines.  Milton's  great  antagonist, 
Salmasius,  fhe  celebrated  Boasuet,  and  other  noted  men,  were  natives 
of  this- very  ancient  city. 

It  was  at  the  doling  in  of  the  day  when  we  had  fairly  left  Dijon  in 
our  rear.  Our  road  was  the  great  Route  Nationale  of  Frince,  which 
has  been  very  carefully  and  perfectly  const nict<>d.  It  led  us  over  the 
Jura  mountains.  At  times  we  had  six  horses,  and  at  others  four,  ac- 
cording as  the  ascending  grades  were  more  or  less  heavy.  The  wei- 
tJier,  for  the  greatest  part  of  the  way  was  rainy  and  stormy,  tjll  we 
had  descended  the  mountains.  At  11  P.  M.,  we  stopped  at  the  village 
for  dinner,  as  it  was  called,  and  had  a  course  of  soup,  fish,  meat,  fowl, 
fruits,  and  wine  of  the  country,  such  as  they  were,  fi^r  three  francs,  or 
sixty  cents.  About  8  in  the  morning,  breakfast,  and  miserable  at 
best,  was  furnished  at  a  little  village,  for  3  1-2  francs.  At  the  place* 
we  stopped  we  were  accosted  by  be^ars,  who  aometimes  would  ap- 


A  PROTESTAirr  LAND.  20t 


pear  at  the  road-side,  and  seemed  to  demand  charity  as  their  right. 
Not  the  slightest  accident  occurred.  Our  passports  were  inspected  no 
less  than  three  times  on  the  way ;  and  upon  our  arrival  here,  were  ta- 
ken by  an  officer  of  the  ^^  Bureau  de  la  Douaines,"  who  gave  us  a  card 
instructing  us  that,  upon  returning  it  with  our  signatures,  they  would 
be  delivered  back  to  us,  and  reminding  us,  also,  of  the  law  which  re- 
quired that  we  should  request  permission  of  the  police,  if  we  intended 
to  sojourn  in  the  Canton,  and  also  directing  us  to  designate  the  place  of 
our  abode.  No  account  was  taken  of  our  baggage  ;  but  we  were  al- 
lowed to  take  it  to  our  hotel  without  examination. 

I  suffered  much  less  fatigue  by  the  journey  than  I  expected,  having 
slept  the  greater  part  of  the  night ;  and  when  day  dawned,  I  was  de- 
lighted with  the  wild  mountain  scenery,  and  the  perfection  of  the  road, 
which  climbs  around  the  rocky  cliffs  and  sloping  sides  of  hills,  twist> 
ing  and  turning,  like  cat  stairs,  in  its  ascending  grades.  The  houses, 
scattered  through  the  little  valleys,  and  occasionally  clustered  in  vil- 
lages, were  all  built  of  stone — ^heavy,  solid,  substantial  mason  work. 
They  contained  apartments  for  the  family,  and  apartments  for  the  cat- 
tle, all  under  the  same  roof! 

I  felt  my  heart  light  up  with  joy,  when  I  thought  that  I  had  entered 
a  protestant  country,  and  saw  no  more  the  crowds  of  gowned  priests, 
which  everywhere,  in  ereat  numbers,  presented  themselves  in  France. 
The  prospect,  from  the  mountain  top,  of  the  lake,  and  the  country 
along  its  margin,  highly  cultivated,  and  checkered  with  flourishing 
farms  and  vineyards,  is  beautiful  indeed ;  and  the  mountains,  rising  on 
eadi  shore  of  the  lake,  gave  an  air  of  sublimity  to  the  scene,  which 
was  heightened  by  the  circumstance  that  heavy  clouds,  stretched  here 
and  there  down  the  mountains  sides,  or  stnmg  themselves  along  their 
towering  sumibits,  hidden  by  the  veil  they  had  thrown  over  the  fece 
of  the  heavens.  Once  or  twice,  as  they  dispersed,  we  caught  a  distant 
view  of  Mont  Blanc,  towering  in  its  lofty  and  majestic  grandeur.  As 
the  coaches  drove  rapidly  along  the  shore  of  the  lake  from  Nyon, 
where  we  first  reached  it,  I  thought  of  Calvin  and  of  the  influence  he 
had  here  exerted,  and  hence  upon  the  world.  My  heart  rejoioed  in 
the  proofe,  around  me,  of  the  happiness  and  liberty  which  had  been 
enjoyed  by  the  people  of  this  region,  who  had  embraced  the  great 
fundamentid  truths  of  evangelical  religion  and  of  civil  government^ 
which  he  had  taught,  and  whose  habits  were  formed  under  the  light 
and  amid  the  benefits  of  the  principles  and  institutions  he  had  obtained 
from  the  word  of  God,  and  so  successfully  taught,  and  sought  to  dif- 
fose  among  the  people. 

TuRiH,  Bept,  2bth,    The  weather  was  cold  while  I  remained  at  Gen- 


310  LAND  OF  THE  PYRAKlBa 


Then  followed  a  field  of  barley,  which  had  arrived  at  a  more  ad- 
vanced stage  of  its  growth  than  the  wheat,  reminding  me  strongly,  of 
the  passage  in  Exodus,  "  The  flax  and  the  barley  were  smitten,  for  the 
barley  was  in  the  ear,  and  the  flax  was  boiled.  But  the  wheat  and 
the  rye  were  not  smitten,  for  they  were  not  grown  up/'  I  had  the 
evidence  before  me,  that,  when  the  barley  would  be  in  the  ear,  and  the 
flax  boiled,  the  wheat  would  not  be  "  grown  up'' — that  is,  to  earing.  . 

A  little  &rther  on  I  passed  a  field  of  sugar  cane,  bearing  no  unapl 
resemblance  to  our  American  forests  of  Indian  com,  so  densely  set^ 
and  rank  of  growth,  as  to  make  it  an  almost  impenetrable  swamp, 
while  near  it  rose  one  of  the  sugar  refineries  of  the  Padia,  a  common 
spectacle  upon  the  banks  of  the  Nile. 

Passing  on,  I  entered  a  cotton  field,  in  the  third  and  last  year  of  its 
growth,  quite  grove-like  in  aspect,  with  its  downy  product  just  burst- 
ing from  the  bolles.  The  culture  of  the  cotton  plant  was  introduced 
into  Egypt  by  Mohammed  Ali,  as  I  have  said,  within  the  present  cen- 
tury, but,  from  the  &ct,  that  cotton  seed  has  been  found  deposited  with 
the  mummies  in  the  tombs,  sepulchered  tl^ere,  three  thousand  yeara 
ago,  it  is  rendered  almost  certain,  that  it  was  a  product  of  this  valley 
in  common  with  wheat,  barley,  flax,  &a,  in  those  early  times. 

Fields  of  that  beautiful  plant,  Palma  Christi,  and  of  mustard,  in 
full  bloom,  also  rose  upon  my  view,  while  patches  of  peas,  beans,  to- 
bacco, onions,  poppies,  safHower,  cucumbers,  melons,  &c,  alternated 
with  pleasing  effect. 

Field  after  fleld  I  passed,  from  which  ^  had  been  taken  a  crop,  o 
which  the  peasantry  of  Egypt  almost  entirely  subsist,  that  of  Dourah 
com,  or  Indian  millet,  (called  "  Guinea  com,"  in  the  (J.  S.)  and  whi<di 
was  almost  entirely  harvested  before  my  arrival.  It  runs  up  like 
bn>om  com,  and,  while  the  grain  fumishes  a  nourishing  diet,  both  for 
man  and  beast,  the  stalks  are  abundantly  useful  for  fodder,  fuel,  roof- 
ing, fencing,  d^  6zc, 

gambling  on,  I  entered  a  grove  of  the  gum  Arabic  species  of  the 
Acacia  (Nilobia),  covering,  perhaps,  fifty  acres  of  ground.    The  Nilo- 
bia  makes  but  a  small  figure  as  a  tree,  compared  with  some  other 
more  stately  varieties  of  the  Acacia.   A  grove  of  it  more  nearly  resem 
bles  a  fruit  orchard,  in  size  and  height,  but  it  is  unsurpassed  for  beauty 
of  foliage.     It  was  in  full  bloom,  the  blossoms  being  apparently /oc 
timiles  of  the  "  bachelor's  button."    I  noticed  the  gum  oozing  froxn 
the  tmnks  of  the  trees — ^it  is  the  gum  Arabic  of  commerce. 

And  near  by  was  an  extensive  grove  of  the  date  palm.  That  is  a 
spectacle  to  be  seen  at  every  village,  but  not  as  here,  extending  over 
an  area    of  perhaps  a  hundred  acres  of  ground,  while,  undemeatli. 


\ 


AOmCULTUtlE  IN  EaYPT.  311 

waved  the  luxuriant  wheat  crop.  No  rural  apectade  can  be  more 
beautiful  than  audi  a  field  crop,  studded  all  over  with  the  graoeAil 
palm,  and  spotted  with  its  shadows,  which  are  so  small  and  shifthig 
as  to  do  little  or  no  injury. 

Later  in  the  day,  I  obsenred  a  man  ploughing  a  field,  a  sight  not 
often  seen  in  many  parts  of  Egypt — and  such  a  sight !  The  oxen 
were  just  the  color  of  mice,  and  about  the  size  of  a  yearling  steer, 
with  us,  with  a  pole  ten  or  twelve  feet  long  for  a  yoke,  and  a  mere 
hook  to  tear  up  the  surfiice  of  the  soil,  for  a  plough.  And  this  re> 
minds  me  of  a  threshing  machine  I  met  with  in  one  of  my  tramps,  a 
mere  sledge,  running  upon  ia^ed  rollers,  drawn  by  oxen,  with  a  boy 
mounted  on  it,  driving  round  and  round  over  the  threshing  floor,  the 
grain  (the  heads  only  being  cut  ofl)  being  partly  tramped  out  by  the 
hoofs  of  the  cattle,  and  partly  shelled  by  the  machine.  The  same  im- 
plement was  in  use  thirty  centuries  ago,  as  appears  from  pictorial  re- 
presentations upon  the  walls  of  the  tombs,  and  a  very  similar  imple- 
ment was  doubtless  used  in  Palestine  in  Old  Testament  times.  ^^  Thou 
shall  not  muzzle  the  ox  that  treadeth  out  the  com.'' 

Ofien  I  passed  large,  promiscuous  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats,  attend* 
ed  sometimes  by  a  little  dirty,  ra^ed,  tattooed  girl,  whose  charms 
were  set  off  with  ringlets,  and  huge  dangling  ear-drops.  When  the 
floek  is  driven  in  at  night,  *'  the  shepherd  divideth  the  sheep  from  the 
goats,*^  putting  them  in  separate  apartments. 

These  flocks  I  frequently  found  feeding  upon  a  spedes  of  wild  grass, 
which  I  shonld  not  have  expected  them  to  touch.    Thousands  of  acres 
in  a  tract,  a  little  back  from  the  river,  I  oflen  found  covered  with  a 
spedes  of  wild  grass,  so  large,  fibrous,  and  tough,  that  I  should  sup- 
pose it  to  -be  proof  against  the  masticating  powers  of  any  animal, 
except  the  camel,  and  sometimes  these  tracts  come  quite  up  to  the 
river  bank.     I  bad  often  observed  roots  protruding,  where  the  bank 
had  been  broken  off,  and  hanging  pendulous,   about    the  size  of 
young  grape  vines,  and  so  thick,  oflen^  as  to  cover  the  perpendicular 
bank  as  with  a  mat,  several  feet  down,  when  neither  vine  nor  tree  was 
to  be  seen  ppon  the  top,  and  I  wondered  from  what  they  could  proj 
ceed.     I  tried  to  link  them  to  the  palm  trees,  at  first,  and  I  was  never 
more  surprised  than  to  find  that  they  belonged  to  the  grass  I  have 
m^itioned.     It  must  be  an  immense  labor  to  reclaim  land  overrun 
with  it.     When  suffered  to  grow  unmolested,  it  throws  up  a  stalk 
quite  like  a  little  tree.     When  kept  fed  down  close,  however,  it  is  less 
fibrous  and  tough,  and  that  is  the  only  practicable  way  of  feeding  it  at 
all.     Go  ashore  when  I  would,  near  the  villages,  I  never  failed  to  scare 
up  the  dunghill  fowl,  which  abounds  in  Egypt.      All  chickens  here 


212  LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDa 

are  hatched  by  artificial  heat ;  I  have  seen  hundreds  of  these  chicken* 
hatching  establishments  in  the  coiuitry,  to  whidi  the  peasantry  bring 
their  eggs,  one  chicken  being  given  for  every  two  eggs.  The  dung^l 
fowl,  here,  however,  is  very  small,  and  its  flesh  comparatively  flavorless. 
And  equally  certain  was  1,  if  not  to  be  scared  up  myseli^  at  least  to 
be  pretty  thoroughly  rallied  by  the  dogs,  every  time  I  set  iny  foot 
on  shore  at  ;:hc  \  iilages,  and  the  higher  I  ascended,  the  saucier  and 
fiercer  tht^y  became;,  assailing  me  in  troops,  with  jackal  ^ooity,  as 
though  they  would  tear  me  in  pieces.  Their  masters  never  interfere, 
and  your  qnly  alternative  is  to  tight,  but  a  few  well  directed  blows 
with  your  club  generally  gives  you  the  field. 


OHAPTKR  XXIV. 

Sonwingand   WrencMny  Machinery  of  Govemtnetii — IJie  Basimado — WUnessmg 

the  horrors  of  it. 

[  was  at  last  doomed  to  witness  the  infliction  of  the  bastinado,  and. 
to  this  hour,  the  scene  is  as  fresh  before  me,  as  though  it  nad  been 
but  yesterday.  The  occasion  was  a  very  common  one,  viz.,  to  enforce 
the  payment  of  taxes,  or  rather,  the  exactions  of  government. 

The  Viceroy  having  fixed  the  amount  of  revenue  which  it  is  his 
pleasure  to  have  placed  at  his  disposal,  apportions  it  among  tlie  gov- 
ernors of  districts,  (instead  of  the  beys,  as  formerly,)  holding  tiiem 
responsible  for  its  collection  and  delivery.  The  governors,  in  their 
turn,  apportion  the  amount  allotted  to  each  of  them  respectively,  to 
the  Sheiks,  or  head  men  of  the  towns  and  villages,  in  their  several  dia- 
triots,  upon  whom  devolves  the  task  of  wrenching  it  from  the  poor 
fhllahs. 

The  amount  is  always  several  millions  of  dollars,  sometimes  as 
high  as  seventeen  millions,  to  be  raised  from  less  than  three  miUions 
of  people,  including  men,  women,  and  children,  most  of  them  in  a 
state  of  abject  poverty.  The  Sheiks  have  no  alternative— raise  it  thegr 
must,  by  &ir  means  or  foul,  and  all  they  can  torture  out  of  the  poor 
wretches  besides,  to  put  in  their  own  pockets,  is  so  much  dear  gain, 
there  being  nothing  to  set  limits  to  their  exactions. 

The  assessments  are  made  without  any  regard  to  an  equalizalioQ  of 
the  burden,  friends  and  &vorites  being  exempted,  and  others  darvtrtx 
upon  the  heavier  to  make  up  the  deficiency.  And  then,  everything  i;» 
taxed,  and  taxed,  and  taxed.  The  land  is  taxed,  the  crops,  even  tbe 
troes  that  grow  on  it  are  taxed,  the  stock,  even  the  fowls  are  taxed^ 
and  the  eggs  the  fowls  lay,  are  taxed,*  nothing  escapes,  not  even  & 


MODS  OF  BXTOBTIKO  TAXES.  213 

bucket  to  dip  the  water  of  the  Nile,  and  taxed  too  to  the  utmost  it  is 
possible  to  collect  by  the  application  of  torture. 

And  the  miserable  people,  on  the  other  hand,  throwing  themselves 
upon  the  defensive,  resort  to  every  possible  subterfuge  to  evade  the 
robbery.  They  will  hide  away  their  effects,  equivocate  and  lie,  with 
a  tact  that  is  truly  marvellous ;  but  so  narrowly  are  they  watched, 
and  so  closely  beset,  that  there  is  little  chance  for  them  to  escape  de- 
tection. When  ail  other  means  have  failed  to  draw  forth  the  hidden 
treasure,  the  bastinado  is  the  terrible  resort. 

Ijanding  one  day  at  a  village,  I  observed  an  assemblage  beneath  a 
palm  grove,  and,  hearing  what  seemed  outbursts  of  agony,  I  drew 
near,  and,  lo,  there  was  the  Slieik  witii  a  pt>or  wretch  writhing  before 
him,  from  whom  he  was  eiicleHvoring  to  wrench  the  portion  of  his  tax 
which  remained  unpaid.  The  man  seemed  bursting  with  agony,  now 
throwing  himself  upon  the  earth,  rolling  and  timibling,  with  moaniiigs 
and  wailings,  which  pierced  my  very  soul,  and  now  culling  heaven  and 
earth  to  witne>5S,  that  he  had  not  a  single  fvddah  more  than  he  had 
produced. 

**Tie  his  legs  and  apply  the  bastinado,"  exclaimed  the  Sheik.  Thus 
pinioned,  he  was  stretched  upon  the  ground,  face  downwards,  with  the 
operator  astride,  holding  a  rhinoc<T08  rawhide  in  his  right  hand,  which 
he  commenced  applying  to  the  soles  of  his  feet,  every  blow  fetching  a 
suppressed  groan,  and  a  jerk  of  the  whole  body.  After  enduring  it 
awhile,  the  suffering  man  relented,  and  cried  out  to  the  executioner  to 
utop,  and,  being  released,  paid  over  a  part  of  the  amount  to  the  Sheik, 
protesting,  with  imprecations  and  wailings,  which  were  enough  to  move 
the  very  stones  to  sympathy,  as  he  did  before,  that  he  had  not  anothei* 
piaster  on  earth,  and  invoking  the  enrrses  of  heaven  on  himself  and 
family,  it  he  had  not  spoken  truth. 

The  Sheik  nilmly  pocketed  the  money,  and,  exhorting  him  to  think 
of  his  latter  end,  ordered  the  exeentioner  to  proceed.  Tap,  tap,  tap, 
again  went  the  terrible  thon«T ;  thi*.  soles  >jl'  the  snfTerer's  feet  rose  to 
a  pulp, ;  he  groaned,  shrieked  and  ^vrithed.  nntil.  unable  longer  to  en- 
dure it,  he  shrieked  out  a  surrender,  releiweil  the  balance  of  the  money 
from  beneath  his  tongue,  and  was  set  at  liberty. 

Not  being  able  to  stand  upon  his  feet,  he  was  borne  away  by  his 
friends,  apparently  in  triumph,  that  he  had  sufR^red  so  bravely  in  a 
good  cause.  '^The  sequel,  I  was  told,  would  be,  that  he  would  accept  a 
pipe,  with  the  congratulations  of  his  friends,  that  he  had  stood  so 
merciless  a  pounding,  in  a  cause  in  which  all  were  equally  interested. 

Instances  have  occurred,  in  which  the  poor  creatures  have  stood  out 
U^  the  last,  and  homo  off  in  triumph,  the  few  fiiddahs  they  had  held  in 


S14  LAND  OF  THB  PYBAMIDa 

T  -  -  -  -  ' 

reserve,  under  the  tongue,  in  readiness  to  be  disgorged,  in  case  the  suf- 
fering became  insupportable.  And  it  is  related  of  one  poor  wretch, 
that,  after  suffering  all  that  human  nature  could  endure,  and,  being  re- 
leased  as  a  hopeless  case,  he  was  struck  a  blow  in  the  mouUi  hj  the 
Sheik,  which  brought  out  a  gold  pieoe  that  proved  to  be  just  the 
amount  of  his  tax. 

Having  tortured  the  required  amount,  and  as  much  more  as  possible, 
from  his  miserable  dependants,  the  burlej  Sheik  not  only  podcets  the 
overplus,  but  sets  his  wits  to  work  to  devise  ways  and  means  to  de- 
prive the  government  of  as  much  as  possible  of  its  portion,  and  not 
unfrequentiy  refuses  to  pay  over  to  the  government  any  part  of  it, 
until  his  grip  has  been  loosed  by  the  same  horrid  means  which  he  him- 
self had  emplbyed  upon  the  wretched  peasantry,  and  thus  it  passes  out 
of  his  hands  to  the  same  tune  to  which  it  came  in,  and  sometuues  the 
governors  themselves  have  to  be  screwed  up  to  a  becoming  sense  of 
their  responsibilities,  in  the  same  indelicate  manner,  in  the  rough  hands 
of  the  Pacha. 

To  this  tune  the  dollars  travel  on,  from  stage  to  stage,  toward  the 
fiscal  chest  of  the  Pacha,  to  be  expended,  on  their  arrival,  upon  his  own 
private  extravagances,  or  upon  public  account,  as  suits  his  pleasure. 

Such  is  the  grinding  system  of  oppression  which  has  been  practiced 

for  ages,  upon  the  peasantry  of  Egypt.     It  scarcely  seems  possible 

that  they  should  suffer  more  and  live,  and  they  can  only  live  at  all  by 

stealing  away  and  concealing  a  sufficiency  for  a  bare  subsistence. 

Not  only  is  everything  produced  taxed  thus  oppressively,  but  if  the 
poor  creatures  have  anything  to  sell,  it  is  not  enough  that  it  has  the 

government  stamp  upon  it  as  having  paid  duty,  but  they  are  not  al- 
lowed to  sell  it  as  their  own  at  all.  They  must  take  it  to  a  govern- 
ment agent,  who  allows  them  a  fixed  price,  a  pitiful  remuneration  for 
their  labor,  the  governor  or  its  harpies,  clutching  all  the  profits ;  afid 
it  is  very  much  H^ith  manufactures  as  with  the  products  of  agriculture* 
The  Pacha  either  owns  them  outright,  and  commands  the  labor  of  the 
peasantry  at  his  own  price,  or  he  so  regulates  the  sales,  as  to  secure 
nearly  all  the  profits  to  himself.  Often  in  ascending  the  Nile,  have  I 
said  to  my  captain — whose  fine  ^umi,  whose  cotton-field,  whose  cane- 
field  and  sugar  retinery,  whose  cotton  manu&ctory,  or  whose  palace  is 
that  1  and  the  answer  has  been  always  the  same — "  Abbas  Pachas  ! '' 

Such  being  the  operation  of  a  bandit  government,  what  wonder  that 
its  rascality  should  impress  itself  upon  the  people  ?  What  wcmder 
that  its  victims,  robbed  of  their  just  earnings,  overborne  and  crushed 
by  the  strong  arm  of  irresponsible  power,  in  contempt  of  the  com- 
mon rights  of  humanity — what  wonder  that  they  should  become  both 
liars  and  thieves  in  self  defence  ? 


BUIKS  AT  THBBBS.  316 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Arrival  ai  7hibe» — ita  wtmderfiU  ma^nffioenoe  murpcMing  detcripUoitii—Oreai  TefnpU 
cf  iMOEor — BcUSe  Scenes  on  the  Prtpyhn'—V^ereni  AparimerUa  o/nd  extent  of  the 
Skuckure. 

m 

We  have  at  last  arrived  at  the  far-famed  scene  of  wonders,  the  site  of 
ancient  Thebes,  ''  the  hundred  gated  Thebes  "  of  the  poet,  ^*  the  multi- 
tudinous No."  of  the  prophet— a  spot  marked  by  ruins  more  magni- 
ficent than  any  other  upon  the  earth's  surface ;  ruins  swept  by  the 
desolations  of  thirty  centuries,  and  yet  exhibiting  traces  of  a  grandeur, 
not  only  unsurpassed,  but  utiapproached,  by  the  proudest  of  modem 
edifices. 

Kamac  and  Luxor,  Medinet  Abou,  and  Gomoo,  are  the  remains  of 
its  four  great  temples,  so  sailed  from  the  names  of  the  shabby  Arab 
villages,  located  in  and  around  them  respectively.  Of  these  wonderful 
remains  we  have  had  many  glowing  accounts,  but,  after  all,  the  concep- 
tion I  had  formed  of  them  was  but  poor  and  beggarly.  No  descrip- 
tion ever  equalled  the  reality,  and  none  ever  can.  The  beholder  may 
see  idl  that  can  be  seen,  and  feel  all  that  can  be  felt,  and  his  fervid  pen 
may  dash  off  his  impressions  with  masterly  stroke,  while  the  artbt 
lends  the  aid  of  his  delicate  touches,  until  a  perfect  image  of  the  re- 
ality seems  to  dance  npon  the  vision,  and  yet  you  will  liave  but  an 
imperfect  conception  of  the  reality  itself,  until  beheld  by  your  own 
wondering  eyes. 

These  four  stupendous  piles,  so  great  in  ruin,  though  the  nearest 
of  them  are  two  miles  asunder,  formed  so  many  great  central  points 
in  the  ancient  metropolis — so  vast  was  its  extent — ^lifUng  themselves 
up  in  proud  pre-eminence  over  the  humbler  edifices  which  covered  the 
plain  of  Thebes,  three  thousand  years  ago. 

Kamac  and  Luxor  are  located  upon  the  east  side  of  the  river.  The 
latter  being  close  to  the  landing,  first  attracted  my  attention,  and  to  it 
I  directed  my  steps ;  but,  scarcely  had-  I  begun  to  give  scope  to  my 
admiration,  scarcely  had  my  feelings  begun  to  rise  into  unison  with 
the  objects  around  me,  when  they  took  a  slide  downwards,  sinking  to  a 
point  as  much  below  the  common  level,  as  they  had  been  elevated 
above  it— downwards  from  majestic  walls  and  towenng  columns,  to 
ragged,  filthy  Arabs,  men,  women  and  children,  mixed  up  with  dogs, 
goats,  and  donkey's,  all  huddled  up  in  the  interior  apartments,  talking 
and  scolding,  braying  and  bleating,  bawling  and  squalling,  growling 
and  howling.  Hight  down  before  me  sat  two  half-clad  ^^  women  grind- 
ing at  a  mill,"  the  new  testament  mill,  constructed  of  two  stones, 
the  nether  convex,  and  the  upper  concave  fitted  as  a  cap,  with  a  handle 


216  LAKD  0^  THE  PYRAMIDS.  * 

to  turn  it,  the  grain  being  crushed  between  the  two,  as  it  fell  £ix>in  the 
hand  through  the  aperture  at  the  apex,  both  operators  joining  lustil)' 
in  the  cry  of  hu^ksheisk  !  buckskeisk  !  which  rang  out  on  every  side, 
peal  upon  peal. 

Recovering  from  the  shock,  my  feelings  rj)se  again,  (great 'things 
prevailing  over  little,)  and  I  resigned  myself  to  the  enchantments  of 
the  place,  some  new  wonder  opening  upon  me  at  every  step. 

Let  us  approach  this  noble  ruin  from  the  north,  with  an  explanatory 
manual  in  hand.  Before  us  rises  a  propylou  or  gateway,  consisting  of 
a  wall  of  solid  masonry,  two  hundred  fk^'t  in  length,  twenty -five  in 
thickness,  and  sixty  in  height,  above  the  present  surface  of  the  ground, 
I  and  reaching  far  below  it  to  u  level  which  constituted  the  sur&oe 
when  its  foundations  were  laid,  the  gate  being  in  the  centre  of  it. 
Outside  the  gate  on  one  side,  and  a  tow  feet  from  it,  shoots  up  the 
finest  obelisk  in  the  world,  just  as  it  did  thoustmds  of  years  ago,  when 
(Jambyses  reined  up  his  dashing  war  steeds  at  sight  of  it.  There  were 
two  of  them  then,  and  both  stood  in  their  places,  one  upon  each  side 
of  the  gateway,  until  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  when  one 
of  them  was  removed  by  the  French,  and  it  now  adorns  the  Place  Qon- 
cordia,  at  Paris.  The  other  still  stands,  as  erect,  as  perfect,  and  as 
beautiful,  as  the  artist  left  it,  a  single  polished  shaft  of  rose-colored 
granite,  something  less  than  eight  feet  square  at  the  base,  and  springing 
to  a  height  of  more  than  eighty  feet,  covered  all  over  with  hierogly- 
phic symbols,  beautifully  wrought,  cut  an  inch  and  three-fourths  deep, 
and  exhibiting  the  freshness  and  sharp  finish  of  yesterday. 

Still  nearer  the  wall  stand  two  collosal  statues,  of  the  same  beauti- 
ful stone,  one  on  each  side  of  the  gateway,  buried  up  to  their  necks,  in 
rubbish  and  sand,  and  measuring  from  their  shoulders  to  the  top  of 
their  mitres,  twenty-two  feet.  There  is  Siiid  to  have  been,  originally, 
a  row  of  them  extending  the  whole  length  of  Uie  propylon. 

Raising  our  eyes  to  the  propylon  itself,  we  see  it  all  sculptured 
over  with  battle  scones,  the  ^fTerent  gwups  embracing  not  less  than 
fiflcen  hundred  persons,  besides  horses  and  chariots.  The  principal 
scene  is  evidently  laid  in  a  foreign  land,  from  the  fact,  that,  the  Egpy- 
tians,  as  invaders,. besiege  a  fortress,  being  distinguishafble  by  their  short 
dress,  and  by  riding  two  upon  a  chariot,  brandishing  spears  and  javel- 
lins,  while  the  besieged  wear  a  long  flowing  dress,  ride  three  upon  a 
chariot,  and  draw  the  bow,  being  thus  marked  as  Orientals. 

Hiere  seems  to  be  an  engagement  brought  on  by  a  sortie  from  tiic 
fortress,  the  Egyptians  being  represented  in  the  act  of  putting  the 
enemy  to  flight.  The  king,  conspicuous  by  his  great  size,  is  mounted 
on  a  chariot  by  himself,  with  a  lion  crouching  at  his  feet,  the  reins  tied 


VICTOMBS  OF  SEgOSTRItra  21T 


round  his  body,  his  bow  drawn,  and  the  enemy  falling  around  him, 
while  his  furious  chargers  dash  forward,  at  full  speed,  over  the  bodies 
of  the  slain,  carrying  him  far  in  advance  of  the  main  body  of  his 
army,  and  there  he  is  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  enemy,  dealing  death 
irdm  his  unerring  bow. 

The  enemy  in  full  flight,  are  driven,  in  great  numbers,  off  a  preci- 
pice, into  a  stream  below,  and  conspicuous  among  them,  is  a  charioteer 
with  one  hand  clinging  to  the  car,  and  letting  tall  whip  and  reins  from 
the  other,  as  he  goes  over.  Others  are  strugj^ling,  amid  horses  and 
chariots,  in  the  deep  below ;  some  are  drowning  ami  floating  down 
the  stream,  while  a  few  reach  the  opposite  shore. 

On  the  other  Imnd,  some  are  struggling  to  rei^nin  tlit*  fortress,  from 
which  a  ccimpany  of  new  recruits  are  seen  issuing  to  join  in  the  fight, 
and  from  the  rampart*?  of  which  are  to  be  seen  groups  of  the  aged  and 
infirm,  women  and  children,  looking  down  in  terror  upon  the  scene. 

All  this  is  seen  upon  the  eastern  wing,  or  the  portion  east  of  the  gate- 
way. Upon  the  western  wing,  we  find  the  horrors  of  the  triumphal 
scene,  the  conqueror  upon  the  throne  of  judgment,  sceptre  in  hand,  and 
before  him  eleven  captive  chieftains,  lashed  together,  and  imploring 
m«rcy,  while  near  by  stands  their  van([uished  sovereign,  with  his  arms 
tied  behind  him,  and  fastened  to  a  chariot,  to  which  twn  horses  are  har- 
nessed, and  which  the  victor  nionareh  is  prohably  alwut  to  mount,  to 
give  reins  and  have  a  little  sport. 

In  the  rear  of  the  throne  the  work  of  death  is  going  on  ;  some  are 
pierced  with  arrows,  some  with  scimetars,  sc»mc  are  beheaded,  and 
some  dragged  at  chariot  wheels,  llie  conqueror's  camp,  his  treasure, 
tmd  his  servants  preparing  a  feast,  fill  up  the  scenes— the  whole  doubt 
less  being  a  truthfid  record  of  a  great  historicai  event,  and  it  is 
strongly  confirmatory  of  the  lujrrations  of  the  Greek  historians,  in 
relation  to  the  victories  of  Sesostris,  in  the  East. 

And  all  this  is  but  a  gateway — what,  then,  must  have  been  the  tem- 
ple itself?  Great  lis  its  dilapidation  now  is.  there  kK>meup  a  magni- 
ficence before  which  you  stand  still  to  gaze  and  wonder,  and  which 
seems  to  be  the  work  of  a  race  of  men  represented  by  the  statues  of 
which  I  have  spoken,  Ji/li/  feet  high  !  Passing  the  gateway,  we  enter 
a  portico,  not  far  from  200  feet  sqaure,  in  ruins,  from  which  entry  was 
made  through  a  double  row  of  columns,  fourteen  in  number,  and 
thirty-two  feet  in  circumference,  into  a  court,  say  a  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  square,  with  similar  rows  of  columns  on  each  side,  and  then  fol- 
lows a  spacious  apartment  with  thirty-six  columns,  which  brings  you 
to  the  adytum  or  place  of  sacred  mysteries,  and  beyond  it  are  other 
extensive  apartments.      Some  have  made  the  entire  edifice   i;200 


218  LAND  OF  THB  PYRiJaDa 

feet  square,  which  would  embrace  an  area  of  thirty-two  acres,  but  as 
the  exact  limits  on  one  or  two  of  its  sides  cannot  be  traced,  we  cannot 
speak  with  any  degree  of  oertunty  of  the  original  dimensions  of  this 
wonderful  structure. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Vigit  to  (he  Oreai  Tempk  of  Kamac — Iha  Avenue  of  SpkmsDm~^<i  new  dieooverif — Ae 
Oreai  Ihmpk  Uidf-^ta  Hall  of  PiUara — iia  adytumf  and  its  wondrfid  muTound- 
ings. 

Two  miles  to  the  north  of  Luxor,  across  the  plain,  are  to  be  seen 
the  ruins  of  the  great  temple  of  Kamac  As  I  strolled'  over  the  in- 
termediate plain,  on  the  look  out  for  the  remains  of  the  great  avenue 
of  Sphinxes,  a  spectacle  presented  itself,  for  which  I  was  totally  unpre- 
pared, t  No  traveler  had  ever  described  it — none  had  ever  seen  it,  for 
it  was  just  then  being  brought  to  light.  As  I  was  nearing  the  south- 
ernmost propylon  of  Kamac,  passing  moodily  along,  I  found  myself 
all  of  a  sudden,  right  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  assembly  of  one  of  the 
chief  gods  of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  in  their  resurrection  state,  hav- 
ing just  risen  from  their  long  slumber  underground.  It  was  the  god 
Anubis,  whicli  was  formed  by  striking  off  the  head  of  a  human  being, 
and  affixing  the  head  of  a  jackal  to  the  decapitated  lump  of  humanity, 
thus  making  a  deity  of  the  first  order.  There  was  an  innumerable 
company  of  them  which  had  just  been  dug  out,  and  strewed  over  the 
ground ;  and,  though  the  conjunction  of  parts  was  so  hideous,  there 
was  such  a  symmetry  and  comeliness  of  proportion  about  them,  and 
such  perfection  of  finish,  that  I  could  not  but  award  them  the  sponta- 
neous tribute  of  my  admiration,  without  stopping  to  discuss  their 
claims  to  my  devotion.  They  were  formed  of  rose  colored  granite,  in 
a  sitting  posture,  the  size  of  life,  or  a  little  less,  with  all  their  original 
polish  upon  them,  and  all  exactly  alike ;  and  they  seem  to  have  been 
found,  arranged  side  by  side,  around  an  area  of  perhaps  half  an  acre 
of  ground,  as  though  sitting  in  council,  just  as  they  did  three  thousand 
years  ago,  the  soil  having  accumulated  to  the  depth  of  two  or  three 
feet  over  them. 

This  deity  acted  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  scenes  of  the  final  judg- 
ment, as  I  infer  from  the  pictorial  representations  upon  the  walls  of 
the  tombs,  where  he  is  to  be  seen  holding  a  pair  of  scales,  ballandng 
the  good  and  evil  deeds  of  the  departed  against  each  other,  with  the 
poor  trembling  expectants  before  him,  awaiting  their  doom. 

A  little  further  on,  to  my  great  delight,  I  came  upon  the  objects  of 


THB  SPHTKXE&  2i8 


my  eetin^  the  sphynxes,  which  I  found  in  considerable  numbers,  in 
rather  a  dilapidated  state,  all  of  them  being  more  or  less  mutilated. 
Iliey  consisted  of  the  body  of  a  lion  and  the  head  of  a  ram,  of  col- 
lassal  size,  he¥m  from  solid  blocks  of  red  granite,  and  were  stationed, 
in  a  crouching  posture,  thirty  feet  apart,  on  both  sides  of  the  great 
avenue,  all  the  way  from  Luxor  to  Kamac,  a  distance  of  nearly  two 
mOes.  Mutilated  as  are  those  that  remain,  they  exhibit  traces  of  ex- 
quisite finish,  and  serve  to  help  out  our  conceptions  of  the  marvelous 
beauty,  and  awfiil  sacredness,  (to  a  pagan,)  of  this  divinity-guarded 
approach  to  the  most  magnificent  temple  ever  built  by  the  hands  of 
man.  And  there  were  several  other  similar  avenues,  diverging,  in 
different  directions,  from  this  wonderful  structure,  one  of  which  ex- 
tended from  the  western  propylon  to  the  Nile,  one  mile  distant. 

What  an  awe  must  have  rested  down  upon  the  poor  pagan  idolator, 
as  he  advanced  up  the  sacred  avenue  guarded  by  these  awful  deities, 
and  how  must  his  dreary  soul  have  quaked  within  him,  as  he  passed 
the  hideous  assembly  above  spoken  of,  the  arbiter,  as  he  believed,  of 
his  final  doom  ? 

Originally  there  were  twelve  entrances  to  this  great  temple,  each 
one  of  them  passing  through  several  propyla,  numbers  of  which  sttU 
remain,  some  of  them  sixty  feet  in  height,  and  all  covered  with  sculp- 
tured hyeroglyphics,  and  guarded  by  collossal  statues,  winch  rise  upon 
each  side  of  the  gateway,  so  high  that  I  could  scarcely  reach  up  to  their 
knees.  Through  these  portals  entry  was  made  into  colonades,  which 
were  lined  with  columns,  and  took  a  (urcular  sweep  of  a  considerable 
distance  to  the  temple. 

Through  all  this  profusion  of  magnificcQce  is  this  temple  approached. 
The  entire  field  of  ruins,  embraced  by  the  main  structure  and  the  sub- 
ordinate edifices  connected  with  it,  is  computed  to  be  not  less  than 
three  miles  in  circumference.  A  quarter  of  a  mile  before  reaching 
the  great  central  pile,  I  came  upon  a  subordinate  edifice,  which,  any- 
where else,  would  be  considered  a  marvel.  In  front  of  it  rises  a  pro- 
pylon,  to  a  height  .of  more  than  sixty  feet,  all  sculptured  over,  and 
leading  to  a  gallery  of  collossal  rams.  Then  follows  another  propy- 
lon, and  then  an  open  colonade,, leading  to  an  immense  hall,  studded 
with  massive  columns,  and  other  pillared  apartments,  all  covered  with 
sacred  emblems,  the  whole  exhibiting  wonderful  massiveness  and 
strength,  as  well  as  beauty  of  finish. 

All  this  was  but  introductory  to  the  great  temple  of  Kamac,  and 
yet  it  did  not  embrace  the  principal  entrance,  which  was  at  the  west 
end,  from  the  great  avenue  of  sphynxes  which  leads  to  the  river.  Let 
us  approach  it  from  that  direction.     First,  we  pass  a  gateway  sixty- 


MO  LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


four  fe^t  high,  and  this  enormous  portal  once  had  bronse  doors.  Hr 
first  apartment  we  enter  is  a  spacious  court,  lined  on  two  sides  with 
immense  columns,  and  a  double  row  running  down  the  centre  to  a 
flight  of  twenty-seven  steps,  which  are  guarded  by  two  coUossal  stat- 
ues. Passing  these  steps,  I  found  myself  in  the  great  hall  of  Kamae, 
and  here  all  high  thoughts  were  cast  down,  imagination  cowered,  and 
wonder  itself  was  dumb.  That  so  vast  a  conception  should  take  form 
and  visibility  before  me,  seemed  more  like  a  dream  than  a  reality. 
To  say,  as  some  travelers  have  said,  that  this  great  hall  exhibits  "  a 
porfoot  forest  of  columns,"  is  to  give  a  caricature  rather  than  a  de- 
scription of  it.  Think  of  a  single  column  tlrirty-six  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence, (large  enough  U^  touch  the  four  sides  of  a  room  twelve  feet 
square,)  and  towering  to  a  height  of  some  seventy  feet,  all  sculptured 
over  from  bottom  to  top,  then  think  of  a  row  of  nine  such  columns, 
standing  side  by  side,  and  then  of  two  such  rows,  making  eighteen  in 
all,  and  still  go  on  adding  row  after  row,  until  you  got  sixteen  rows, 
with  nine  columns  in  a  row,  making  one  hundred  and  forty-four  col- 
umns in  all,  one  hinidred  and  thirty-four  of  which  arc  still  standing, 
•something  more  than  twenty  feet  assunder,  studding  all  over  a  hall 
occupying  an  acre  and  a  half  of  ground,  and  surniounted  by  blocks  of 
stone  reaching  from  one  to  the  other,  twenty  to  twenty-five  feet  long, 
eight  feet  wide,  and  four  or  five  thick,  and  tell  me  what  sort,  of  an  idea 
of  the  reality  would  be  conveyed  by  comparing  it  to  a  forest,  or  any 
thing  else  in  all  the  world  besides '?  * 

Says  Champollion,  in  view  of  the  wonders  he  here  saw :  "  I  shall 
take  care  not  to  describe  anything,  for,  if  I  should  draw  even  a  Mn% 
picture,  I  should  be  taken  for  an  enthusiast,  or  perhaps  a  madman. 
No  people,  ancient  or  modern,  ever  conceived  the  art  of  architecture 
on  so  sublime  and  grand  a  sciile.  Their  conceptions  were  those  of 
men  a  hundred  feet  high,  and  the  imagination,  which,  in  Europe,  rises 
far  above  our  porticoes,  sinks  abashed  at  the  foc^t  of  the  hundred  and 
forty  columns  of  the  hypostylc  hall  of  Karnac.*' 

Other  courts  and  halls  of  equal  dimensions  fi>lluw,  in  tlie  first  of 
which  rise  two  obelisks,  single  blocks  of  Egyptian  granite,  a  hundred 
feet  high,  also  collossal  statues  similar  to  those  I  have  described,  while, 
near  by,  stands  the  adytum,  or  chamber  of  holy  mysteries,  also  of 
rose-colored  granite,  consisting  of  three  apartments,  the  principal  of 
which  is  twenty  feet  by  sixteen,  and  thirteen  feet  high,  with  a  roof 
formed  of  only  three  blocks  of  s^anite,  which,  from  beneath,  presents 
eiuflters  of  stars  upon  a  blue  ground,  the  whole  structure  having  more 
the  appearance  of  a  work  of  yesterday,  than  of  thirty  centuries  ago, 
so  sharp  is  the  sculpture,  and  so  new  and  fresh  its  entire  aspect. 


SCULFTUBBJ)  6CENES.  nh 


The  walls  of  this  temple  are  broken  down,  no  portion  of  them  rising 
to  their  original  height,  which  was  sixty-seven  and  a  half^feet;  Their 
thickae«8,  which  may  still  be  measured,  was  twenty-four  fe&U  And 
walls,  columns,  obelisks,  everything  belonging  to  this  and  every  other 
temple  I  liave  seen  in  the  country,  are  covered  all  over  with  sacred 
emblems,  cut  deep  in  the  flinty  rock,  and  of  so  exquisite  a  finish  as  to 
be  ornamental  in  a  high  degree. 

In  these  mysterious  symbols  is  locked  up  froui  all  mortal  eyes 
many  an  ample  volume ;  and,  although  proclamation  has  been  made 
that  t<he  key  has  been  found,  how  little  has  it  hitherto  availed  ?  Some 
progress,  however,  has  been  made,  some  glimpses  have  been  opened 
to  us — ^how  much,  and  to  what  end,  I  shall  try  to  show  hereafter. 

Upon  the  north  wall  of  this  temple  is  to  bo  seen  the  Yimous  sculp- 
tured scene,  which  represents  a  monarch  (distinguished  by  his  great 
size)  in  the  act  of  striking  oil'  the  head  of  a  captive  with  one  hand, 
which  he  holds  by  the  hair  with  the  othe]\  tf^iile  around  him  are  thirty 
principal  personages  who  are  pointed  out  as  the  captive  chiefs  of  as 
many  diflerent  nations.  One  of  these  Cham  poll  ion  has  designated  as 
evidently  a  Hebrew,  not  only  from  the  physiognomy,  but  from  the 
iDSCription  underneath,  which  he  makes  to  read,  ''  Joudah  Melchi,''  or 
^  Kingdom  of  Judab.''  lie  also  ma4^e  out  the  name  of  Sheshonk,  or 
Shlskak,  the  very  name  of  the  Egyptian  king  who  beseiged  and  took 
Jerusalem,  in  the  reign  of  Rehoboam,  as  related  in  the  2d  Chronicles., 
and  he  feels  assured  that  the  events  there  recorded  find  illustration 
here. 

The  tabernacle  of  Jupiter  was  kept  at  Karuac,  but  once  a  year  it 
was  taken  to  the  Lybian  side  of  the  river  to  remain  a  feW  days,  and 
then  return.  The  annual  procession  of  the  priests  moved  in  solemn 
pomp  along  the  awful  avenue  of  Sphynxes  to  the  river,  crossed  to 
Gromoo,  thence  proceeded  south  two  miles  to  Medinet  Abou,  and 
then  recrossed  the  plain  and  river  to  Luxor,  and  thence  across  the 
plain,  through  the  avenue  of  Sphynxes,  back  to  Kamac,  having  passed 
over  a  distance  of  about  ten  miles,  lined  throughout  with  sphynxes, 
cbllossal  statues,  propyla,  obelisks,  and  other  objects  calculated  to 
fltrike  the  poor  pagan  idolator  with  awe,  accompanied  with  the  sound 
gf  the  harp  and  the  cymbal,  and  songs  of  rejoicing. 


»>  LAND  OF  THE  PYRAICID& 


CHAPTER  XXVIL 

Wat  wUU  of  (he  me--ai^  tuio  9eaied  CWtoM^-«w  wonders  from  under  oremd^^ 
CoOoeeus  a  hundred  fieihigh  in  fragmenie-'the  two  Greai  Temples  on  Se  Lybkm 

But  half  of  Thebes  was  on  the  east  side  of  the  river,  and  it  may 
almost  be  said  that  but  half  its  remains  are  there. 

Crossing  to  the  Lybian  side,  scarcely  have  you  ascended  the  bank 
when  you  discover,  acroUs  the  plain,  two  inunense  figures,  naked  and 
alone.  They  are  the  two  seated  ooUossi,  fifty-two  feet  in  height,  in 
their  sitting  posture,  and  distinctly  visible  at  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles. 
And  there  they  have  sat,  witnesses  to  the  changes  which  thousands  of 
years  have  wrought  around  them.  Mounting  the  pedestal  of  the  north- 
ernmost one,  I  stood  up  to  see  how  high  I  could  reach  up  one  of  its 
legs,  when,  lo !  I  was  about  ancle  high  to  it.  I  was  further  humiliated 
to  find  that  I  was  not  mucIT  bigger  than  its  little  finger. 

The  two  are  about  equal  in  size,  and  were  alike  hewn  from  solid 
blocks  of  granite,;  but  one  of  them  has  been  broken  off  and  replaced 
with  masonry.  The  ancients  made  out  for  the  northernmost  one  (the 
one  broken  off  and  replaced)  the  power  of  uttering  certain  voice-like 
sounds  at  sun  rising ;  and  inscriptions  are  found  upon  it  in  Greek  and 
Latin,  with  the  names  of  more  than  one  hundred  persons,  oertifyinir 
that  they  had  heard  the  heavenly  voice  of  Memnon  at  the  early  dawn« 
"  feebly  at  first,  but  rising  and  swelling  like  a  trumpet." 

Of  course  its  vocal  powers,  whatever  they  were,  ceased  when  il 
was  broken  off,  somewhat  before  the  commencement  of  the  Christian 
era.    Strabo  saw  the  divine  fragment  lying  upon  the  ground  in  his 
day.     Some  have  ascribed  the  phenomenon  to  the  tricks  of  the  priests 
some  to  one  thing  and  some  to  another ;  but  that  sounds  were  heard 
seems  to  be  generally  admitted. 

These  statues  did  not  always  sit  here  alone.     A  grand  avenue  lead> 
ing  to  a  mognificent  temple,  passed  between  them,  flanked  on  either 
hand  by  coUossal  statues,  of  which  these  only  remain.     So  numerous 
are  they  to  this  day,  in  a  mutilated  form,  strewed  over  the  ground 
that  the  locality  has  been  denominated  "  the  field  of  the  Collossi." 
The  temple^  whose  approach  they  guarded,  was  exhumed,  a  few  years 
ago,  by  the  British  Consul,  its  foundations  traced,  its  columns  exposed 
and  a  number  of  sphynxes,  with  the  head  of  a  lion  and  the  body  of  a 
woman,  brought  to  the  light  of  day,  the  whole  having  slept  for  centu- 
ries in  undisturbed  repose  beneath  the  mud  of  the  Nile.    This  temple, 
in  the  days  of  its  glory,  seems  to  have  been  little  inferior  those  of 
Lrtixor  and  Kamac. 


TEMPLE  OP  MEDINET  ABOXT.  }2S* 


But  the  most  marvelous  statue  in  this  land  of  statuary  marvels, 
lies  in  fragments,  a  little  way  from  the  two  above  described,  at  the 
tomb  or  palace  of  Osjraandyos,  so-called,  shelved  upon  the  foot  of 
the  great  Lybian  chain.  Tt  was  an  ornamental  appendage  to  that  fa- 
mous structure,  one  wall  of  which  it  carried  away  in  its  fall.  It  was 
of  rose-colored  granite,  and  so  large  that  its  fragmentary  remains 
cover  an  area  of  four  rods  square,  presenting  the  appearance  of  a  stone 
quarry.  One  foot  is  entire,  and  measures  six  feet  ten  inches  across 
the  instep.  '  Across  the  shoulder  it  is  twenty-seven  feet ;  around  the 
chest  sixty-three  feet,  and  through  it  twenty-one.  The  hieroglyphic 
characters  engraved  on  the  arm  afford  ample  room  to  walk  in.  Of  its 
height  we  have  no  account  that  I  know  of,  but  these  proportions  would 
make  it  more  than  a  hundred  feet  high.  Long  did  it  engage  ray  won* 
dering  eye. 

The  palace,  or  tomb,  above  spoken  of,  was  once  a  most  imposing 
structure,  no  edifice  in  Thebes  showing  evidence  of  greater  antiquity. 
Fronting  it  on  the  east  was  an  immense  propylon,  part  of  which  still 
remains.  The  main  structure  was  six  hundred  feet  by  two  hundred^ 
embracing  six  halls  and  courts,  adorned  with  massive  columns.  A 
portion  of  the  colonade,  exhibiting  great  beauty,  and  the  inner  cham- 
bers, are  all  that  remain  to  attest  its  original  splendor. 

But  the  temple  most  worthy  of  notice  on  this  side  of  the  river,  is 
that  of  Medinet  Abou,  located  a  little  to  the  south-west  of  the  erne  I 
have  just  described.  But  for  its  proximity  to  Luxor  and  Kamao  it 
would  figure  as  quite  a  wonder,  for,  out  of  Thebes,  there  is  nothing  in 
Egypt  to  surpass  it.  Two  immense  propyla  are  passed  in  getting 
access  to  it.  The  first  apartment  is  an  immense  court  or  hall,  with 
galleries  sustained  on  one  side  by  a  double  row  of  massive  columnS| 
and  on  the  other  side  by  pilasters  sculptured  into  collossal  statues  of 
Osyris.  To  this  succeeds  another  spacious  apartment,  also  adorned 
with  columns,  pilasters,  sculptures,  &c.,  and  further  on  are  other 
apartments  in  ruins.  The  two  apartments  I  have  described,  exhibit  a 
massiveness  and  strength  which  seems  intended  to  endure  to  the  end 
of  time.  Some  of  the  hieroglyphics  upon  the  walls  are  cut  six  inches 
deep,  and  this  is  of  a  piece  with  the  entire  workmanship  of  the  edifice. 

Upon  the  outside  wall  is  to  be  seen  the  representation  of  a  sea  fight. 
The  hostile  fleets  are  in  the  midst  of  the  engagement  near  the  coast, 
upon  which  the  king  stands,  hurling  missives  at  his  foes,  who  are  fil- 
ing before  him.     The  ships  of  the  enemy  are  mostly  taken  or  sunk. 

Upon  the  interior  various  scenes  are  depicted.  One  represents  the 
king  seated  upon  his  throne,  with  prisoners  bound  before  him,  await- 
ing their  doom.    Another  exhibits  the  monarch  in  the  act  of*  being 


494  LAHTD  OF  TH£  PTRAHID& 


initiated  into  the  priestly  mysteries ;  and  in  these  mysteries  seems  to 
be  bound  up,  in  part  at  least,  the  mystery  of  these  wonderjfiil  edifices. 
Wherewith  shall  I  oomo  before  my  gods  1  appears  to  have  beea  the 
great  question  with  the  nionarehs  of  ancient  Eg}  pt  and  to  meet  it 
seems  to  have  been  the  great  object  of  tiieir  lives.  ]jut  whether  the 
magnitude  of  their  pious  works  was  designed  to  correspond  with  their 
personal  dignity,  or  with  the  greatness  of  their  crimes,  does  not  ap- 
pear. 

There  an*  numerous  other  interesting  remains  scattered  ovei'  this 
extensive  pkin.  Two  miles  to  the  norths  and  directly  opposite  Kar* 
nae.  are  the  ruins  of  the  great  temple  of  Gornoo,  another  ardiiteotund 
prodigy,  which  1  have  mentioned  as  one  of  the  four  great  centra]  points 
of  ancient  Thebes.  And  then,  there  are  numerous  remains  of  smaller 
temples,  of  propyla,  statues,  sphynxes,  &o.,  in  different  localith^s,  em- 
braced within  tho  limits  of  the  ancient  metropolis. 

At  some  distance  to  the  south  of  Medinet  Abou,  are  to  be  seen  tra- 
ces of  a  raco-cxjurse,  embracing  an  area  of  five  hundred  acres,  alford* 
ing  room  for  the  evolutions  of  a  large  army,  and  exhibiting  renuuns 
which  make,  it  manifest,  that  it  was  once  ornamented  with  triumphal 
arches,  and  inonuinents  of  great  magnificence.  Games'  were  doubt- 
less celebrated  here,  chariot  races  run,  armies  mustered,  &c.  Thora 
is  a  similar  one  on  the  other  side  of  the  river. 

With  these  exceptions,  (if  they  are  such,)  not  a  vestige  of  a  struo- 
ture  designed  for  the  amusement  and  entei*tainment  of  the  people,  Iv 
to  be  seen  in  all  Egypt.  Prominent  among  the  architectural  ruins  of 
Greeo-e  and  Rome,  are  the  remains  of  theatres,  amphitheatres,  circuses, 
^c,  to  which  the  pcoi^le  flocked  in  myriads  for  amusement,  while  in 
Egypt  there  seems  to  have  been  little  but  temples,  temples,  temples. 

Such  arc  some  of  the  more  prominent  things  to  be  seen  upon  the 
site  of  a  city,  which  makes  a  larger  figure  upon  the  pages  of  ancient 
historians  and  poets,  than  any  other  whose  story  has  come  down  to  us, 
and  which  has  been  known  and  admired  longer  as  a  ruin,  than  moat 
other  cities  have  existed. 

And  yet  what  a  change  in  this  proud  city  since  the  triumphal  entry 
of  Sesostris,  with  whole  platoons  of  conquered  kings,  and  the  spoils  of 
a  hundred  victories  in  his  train !  WTiat  a  spectacle  must  these  won- 
derful structures,  these  massive  walls,  these  towering  columns  and 
obelisks,  these  avenues  of  sphynxes  and  of  statues,  thirty,  fifty,  and  a 
hundred  feet  high,  and  stretching  miles  away,  have  presented  to  the 
eye  in  the  palmy  days  of  Thebes  • 


SKEIBCltHB  OT  BOKDiBB  hTWK  3S5 

■  ■  — -     1.  I  ■  I.I  -m-^'mm^m  ■■■■  I     I  -■  ■       — 

•         '•  '  '       '  •  "l  •'•         'l.l 


,/ 


SKETCHES  OF  BOEDER  LIFE. 


BT  ▲  ciTiL  monim. 


CHAPTER  V. 

I  had,  at  one-time,  both  eyes  completely  closed  from  the  efTeistsr  of 
the  swelling  from  their  bites,  to  say  nothing  of  sundry  other  disfigure 
mcnts  of  countenance,  that  would  not  have  been  any  aid  to  a  reception 
hi  a  dvilized  drawing  room,  and  was  obliged  to  content  myself  with 
a  night  of  two  days  duration ;  at  the  end  of  which  time,  I  managed 
to  get  one  of  them  open.      I  was  not  particular  about  the  other, 
as  its  already  darkened  state  obviated  the  necessity  of  closing  it  while 
looking  through  an  instrument.     In  the  camp,  these  tormentors  car- 
ried everything  before  them.     No  sooner  was  the  fire  lighted,  t^iati 
its  glare  drew  from  ttie  darkness  around,  myriads  of  all  sorta  of  insect 
life ;  everything  that  possessed  a  sting  seemed  to  appreciate  the  oppor- 
tunity, and  feel  anxious  of  improving  it  to  the  fbll  extent:     Mosquito 
bars  were  brought  into  requisition,  but  any  such  slight  obstacles  as 
tiiose,  only  increased  the  energy  and  force  of  their  attacks.     Some 
ttfould  get  in,  and,  no  sooner  "v^-ere  they  on  the  right  side,  than  they 
followed  up  ,therr  advantage,  with  such  vigor,  that  the  sleeper  soon 
kicked  down  the  bar  and  let  in  the  rest.    The  nets  are  very  small,  on 
account  of  the  small  space  allowe<d  in  the  tent.    They  were  of  the 
length  of  a  man,  about  two  feet  wide,  and  the  same  highth.     Tkese^ 
set  upon  stakes,  and  occupied  by  the  owner,  presented  a  ludicrous  ap- 
,  pearance,  sometimes  not  a  little  hightened  by  the  spectacle  of  some 
half  a  dozen  or  more  occupying  one  net,  heads  forming  the  centre'  and 
feet  and  legs  radiating  in  all  directions.    The  next  resource  wad  a 
smoke,  which  could  hardly  be  considered  the  least  of  two  evils,  but 
answered  the  purpose  of  a  change.     Indeed,  they  seemed  to  enjoy  a 
good  smudge.     On  the  whole  they  had  it  pretty  much  their  own  way, 
and  nobody  regretted  exchanging  the  bottoms  for  the  clear  open 
prairie,  where  they  found  no  harboring  place.    Snakes  were  not  much 
behind  the  mosquitoes,  in  their  assiduous  attentions,  and  caused  much 
alarm,  as  well  as  annoyance.    Their  number  did  not  compare  with 
those  of  their  insect  auxiliaries,  but  were  sufficiently  great  to  keep  Kp- 
prehension  fhlly  alive.     It  is  sometimes  said  that  a  man  may  become 
accustomed  to  anything,  and  perhaps  it  is  so,  for  we  became  so  &mil- 


sat  SKWW)HWiv<BH  BQgXMB&i  MBH 


iar  with  these  reptilea,  that  their  presenoe  was  not  regarded  witli  aay 
peculiar  interest,  otherwise  than  to  know  who  was  bitten«  None  of  ua 
were  &•  unfortunate,  however,  as  to  oome  under  that  catalogue,  though 
some  might  have  been  set  down  as  badly  scared. 

MosqHiitoes,  and  brge  y^Uow  rattlesnakeq^  wore^aufnerous,  and  were 
regarded  with  particular  enmity  bjr  the  bojs,  on  account  of  their 
known  propensities  for  introducing  themselves  into  camp,  and  habita- 
tions of  men  generally.  A  supply  of  whiskey  was  generally  kept  on 
hand,  as  an  antidote  for  their  bite;  that  being  the  only  sure  remedy 
known  on  thei  peihiIibs^  I^deedt  I  hav^  heaTd  of'  some^  0I4  tfpepSk  tM^^ 
did  not  need  evQQ  that,  being  sq  satwafted  with  the  antidote  thiit  tfaa 
poison  had  90  eSeot  upon  tiieoi^  I  do  not  veunk  fi^  tibet  &c%t  hQiWev4ff» 
Th^se  anajf^s  wiere  ofim  killed  in.  the  vicinity  of  tha  €map»  1^4 
aometiiiaes  in  it..  Our  Yankee  ex-sohoolraaater  received  a  viaLlat^ 
of  the  kjsid  <me  night,  in  which  he  displayed,  hia  uausil  pblegmatie  teo^ 
paivim^,  He  generally  slept  next  to  ma,  and  he  awabmed  me  opa 
lught  in  getting  up.  for  a  drink  of  water.  He  struck  a.  ligbb  and  pror 
oeeded  to  tbe  other  tent|  aiid  got  what  he  wanted,  and,  ooming  back^ 
brought  the  candle  with  him.  On  pulling  open  his,  blankBti^  prepacir 
tory  to  deposjlting  hijq»aeljf  in  them*  he  hesitated  for  a  moment,  w4 
rtimnft  my  eyea,  I  otmrv^  him  regw^iog  spm«diMw  ™  *<«  v«y  .V 
tentively.  Turning  over,  I  found  the  object  of  hia  attention,  to  be  • 
good  sized  coj^er  colored  snake,  that  laid  very  conspicuously  atretchad 
Ottt  in  the  place  he  had  just  quitted.  Not  aeeming  disposed  to  mova, 
be  waa.  gently  stirred,  when  his  indifference  was  solved^  by  tine,  diaoov- 
ery  that  he  was  stone  dead.  The  only  solution  of  the  myajleiiy  wa«, 
that  he  had  crawled  in>  alongside  of  Campbell,  in  search  of  a  warm 
berth,  instead  of  which,  hehadmetwithan  untjmejy  end,  atthefaand^ 
of  that  young  gentieman,  who  had  roHed  over  upon  him  in  hi^raleejp 
and  smothered  him.  Not  a  word  of  comment  did  our  impurturbabl^ 
fiiead  make^  but  cooUy  took  the  snake  by  the  tail  and  jerked  himi  out 
of  doors,  and  got  into  his  place,  and  never  was  beard  to  ment^n  tl^ 
auubject  afterwiMrds.  Ea^  man  preserved  a  sost  of  muaeum,  oonaialr 
ing  of  trophies  gained  in  the  exterminating  war  that  waa  ^arr:ied  on 
against  the  snakea;  mainly  rattles,  of  all  sorts  and  sia^es ;  ating^  Ang^ 
and  evfiry,thijqg  else,  that  could  be  converted  int|o  a  curiosity,  or,  trophy 
of  victory.  These,  <^nnected  with  various  antidotea  &>j:  their  bite^ 
in  the  tbi^nf^  of  various  ^^  roots  and  yarbs,"  and  sundry  smallibeAtlfs 
of  fever  and  ague,  billio\^  fever,  and  all  other  lever  qi^^dJcines,  ooixii- 
prised  quite.  a«  pocket  collection,  and  were  regarded  by  th^uf.  Qvnf|» 
witii  mucb  int^est  and  solidtude.  Occasionally  these  sfteces'were 
brought  tq  light  from  tb^. r^ce^ses.  of  numerous  deep  pooHetf^,f^id  die- 


A  TUMBUNG  AMONG  THB  HAHKOGKa  S9t 


piMj^va  ^  TOW  J  xxporttk  log 'y  tt»  ownem  of  eaeh^  doeoaattog)  \sk  Bvety 
livmS)  upon  lAiair  wpertop  'attpaatioE  and.  late.  addlioMi  which  g^nev* 
aUf'  ended  in  a  trade- bemg  struck  ^9  and  noveltiea  <ihangiaig  hfoi^*^ 
m  bottle  of  ^'SeTerelgn  Remedy  fer  die  Gofio,''  being  ocMBffidered)diiiJk 
ehoap  at  tiuree  maasaaauga  ratblea)  and  an:  ladian  avrow  bead. 

Elim  preserved  a  birch  bark  djrinking  cup,  bound  wiUk  tinned  i^ 
that  he  averred  he  had  taken  from  the  gra^e  of  an  eminent  kdiam 
ddef,  thot^  he  never  would  diadose  the  whereabonts  of  tlie  said 
grave ;  but  Levi  declared,  upon  his  honor^  that  he  had  seen  him  dp 
it  into  his  pocket  while  the  two  were  fi>raging  arowid  an  old  emignnt 
encampment.  Elim,  however,  stuck  to  his  story,  and  demanded  ne 
leas  a  price  than  a  whole  museum  for  his  inestimable  rdic  The  dS» 
eoverj  of  these  Indian  relies  was  not  uncommon,  and  sometimea  vaft 
uable  and  curious  articles  were  fow!id ;  but  our  Ikdlities  for  preserving 
them  were  few,  and  they  were  generally-  destroyed  or  lost  in  a  al^ort 
time. 

But  **  reronous  a  nos  mouton,"  or,  in  plain  Bnglish,  to  return  to 
snakes.    The  numerous  mishaps  and  disturbances  from  this  souree, 
drew  forth  the  suggestion,  from  some  fertile  genius^  of  hammocka  as 
a  remedy.    A  consultation  was  held,  and  the  pros  and  cons  discussed. 
Materials,  shape,  ahd  tailoring  qualifications  were  investigated,  and  a 
resolution  passed,  approvii^  the  design.     A  stock  of  bed  todcing,  to- 
gether with  some  bed  cords  which  had  been  laid  in  fbr  emergencies, 
fomidied  the  matmal.    Strips  were  out,  of  the  requisite  length,  and 
oord  sewed  into  the  edges,  and  lefl  long  enough  to  suspend  theeoneem, 
at  the  end.    They  were  not  very  elegant  in  sh^pe,  or  construction, 
and  in  &ct  their  strengtii  was  their  only  recommendatioa.     They  would 
have  held  half  a  dozen  men,  as  long  as  they  could  have  staid  in ;  hut, 
^  some  unaccountable  reason,  they  were  given  to  upsetting.     Our 
hammock  makers  had  not  served  their  apprenticeship  in  Soalii  Amer- 
ica, and  there  was  consequently  something  lacking  in  shape  oar  con- 
stmction.     Nobody  couli  enjoy  the  luxurious  repose  they  wero  de- 
signed to  affi>rd,  and  the  security  from  mosquitoes  and  makeS)  past  the 
first  comfortable  doze,  for  the  movement  of  a  hand  or  foot  would  upset 
the  whole  concern,  and  precipitate  the  sleeper  some  feet  to  the  ground, 
with  numerous  bumps,  and  braises.    They  were  the  source  of  a  great 
deal  of  amusement,  at  the  expense  of  those  who  usedthem.    The stUl- 
ness  of  the  night  would  be  broken  now  and  then  by  the  sound  of  the 
ftn  of  a  heavy  body  to  the  ground,  andtiien  followed  numerous  grum- 
blings and  ejaculations  of  discontent  from  tiie  untuoky  wight  whose 
shnnbers  had  been  unceremoniously  disturbed,  and  hiadireams  pot  to 
flight,  by  a  bump  of  the  head  on  mother  eartii,  in  his.  sudden  d^soant 


^8  SKBTGHBS  OF  BORDER  LIFE. 

firom  his  'p^rch  in  tfaie  air.  After  flome  8foe{>j  effoits  to  regain  his  po*- 
Sition,  lie  generally  transfeited  his  quarters  to  die  tent  for  the  t^Hiiaiii-. 
deir  of  the  night,  where  he  would  be  found  in  the  morning,  stoutly: 
averring  that  he  left  the  open  air  on  aooount  of  its  diilliness,  and  de- 
nying idl  participation  in  the  disturbanoos  of  the  night.  I  was  more 
successful  than. the  others,  both  in  construction  and  use,  having  been 
somewhat  accustomed  to  them  before ;  but  was  fully  satisfied  wiUi  the 
ejCperintent,  when,  having  hung  mine  in  the  tent  above  the  sleepers,  I 
waa  surprised  towards  morning  by  the  sudden  giving  way  of  one  of 
the  tent  poles,  and  the  precipitate  descent  of  myself  upon  thoss  be- 
nieath,  with  the  tent  atop  of  me.  One  of  the  poles  gave  me  a  whack 
(m  the  head  that  caused  me  to  remember  the  adventure  for  a  loi^ 
tiitxe,  to  say  nothing  of  the  dissatisfaction  of  those  upon  whom  1  had 
deposited  myself,  evidenced  by  sundry  kicks  and  anathemas  of  which 
I  was  the  recipient,  before  I  managed  to  effect  my  escape.  These  lit- 
tle mishaps,  however,  always  .tended  to  the  general  good  humor  of  the 
party,  as  nobody  was  so  foolish  as  to  get  angry,  knowing  fron^  experi- 
ence that  it  would  be  the  heighth  of  folly. 

As  we  left  the  bottom  land  and  mosquitoes  behind  us,  we  emei^ged 
upon  a  beautiful  prairie  country,  interspersed  here  and  there  with 
farms  and  other  signs  of  the  habitation  of  men,  occasionally  passing 
the  neighborhood  of  a  small  village,  so  called  rather  from  compliment 
than  from  any  claims  to  the  name,  seldom  boasting  of  more  than  two 
or  three  houses,  a  store  and  blacksmith^s  shop.  Everything  they  had 
.  was  at  our  disposal,  as  the  prospect  of  a  railroad  was  always  agreeable 
to  the  inhabitants,  and  they  were  disposed  to  treat  especially  well  any 
one  connected  with  the  enterprise.  Such  as  their  stores  were,  we 
always  laid  them  under  heavy  contribution  for  what  eatables  they 
oould  AimisL 

The  molasses  keg  was  replenished,  the  butter  firkin  filled,  and  pro- 
visions of  all  kinds  laid  in.  Eggs  happened  to  be  the  staple  commod- 
ity at  this  time  of  the  year ;  and,  as  we  had  had  none  for  a  long  time, 
we  ate  nothing  else  for  a  week  or  two.  It  may  be  doubted  when  I 
say  that  nine  men  ate  one  hundred  dozen  in  a  week ;  but  a  little  figu- 
ring will  dbow  that  the  aggr^ate  amounts  to  just  6.85  eggs  apieoe  at 
a  meal,  which  is  not  a  large  quantity,  considering  the  circumstances  and 
the  place.  I  will  not  venture  to  say  how  long  we  should  have  kept  it 
up,  if  the  supply  had  not  failed*  The,  difficulty  was,  that  there  were 
no  towns  in  the  country  large  enough  to  supply  us  at  that  rate  for  any 
length  of  time.  It  certainly  could  not  be  called  expensive  living,  as 
they  were  only  three  cents  il  dozen. 

The  store  keepers  of  these  small  places  are  generally  old  settlers 


COUNTRY  STORES  GEKBRAL  RBNI)SVOn&  229 

'                                                     I              ^   *■   ■     ■            m^tW    ■■<<■■■                 I  I  II  ^^— P^y■  t  ■■■II  Ml 

■  iwaaw  ^■ni%<^< ^t^^^m^  u   a   k    a  m    0%  m^  ip  iiill 

■  -« 

who  have  lived  there  most  of  their  lives,  and  gained  a  small  compe- 
tence b  J  trading,  and  have  become  the  influential  men  of  their  town* 
They  are  perfectly  acquainted  -with  the  country,  know  everybody  in 
it,  and  can  tell  their  standing,  resources,  &c*,  at  a  moment's  notkdr 
They  are  a  remarkably  social  class,  their  occupation  t^iding  to  make 
them  80,  as  the  store  in  the  country  is  the  rendezvoi^s  for  all  who  are 
disposed  to  meet  their  neighbors  for  a  social  chat,  and  discuss  politics^ 
tirade,  crops,  and  all  other  subjects  of  local  interest  They  seldom 
range  beyond  their  own  little  world,  and  feel  no  great  interest  in  the 
afi&irs  and  doings  of  the  outside  part  of  creation.  Seated,  or  recli- 
ning at  full  length  on  the  counter,  and  boxes,  and  nail  kegs,  placed 
around  the  stove,  they  enjoy  the  passing  hoxit  in  conversation,  in  their 
own  homely  way,  listening  to,  and  delivering,  opinions  with  the  same 
gravity  and  responsibility  that  afjects  weightier  assemblies.  These 
little  re-unions  possess  an  attraction  that  is  known  only  where  neigh- 
bors are  few  and  far  betwee'n,  aild  who  do  not  oftok  meet,  forming  as 
Ihey  do  a  means  of  communication  between  &milies,  and  keeping  up 
an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  doings  of  the  whole  little  coromnnity. 
Many  a  youth  receives  here  his  first  knowledge  of  tiie  world,  and 
ideas  of  men,  as  he  lingers,  hour  after  hour,  in  the  charmed  drde,  un- 
willing to  tear  himself  away.  When  at  a  late  hour  he  'starts  for  honois, 
and  plods  many  a  weary  mile  over  the  lonely  prairie,  the  eonversa 
tibn  lingers  in  his  mind,  and  forms  the  nucleus  around  which  ftney 
weaves  many  a  day  dream,  and  high  aspirations,  too  soon  to  be  dis- 
pelled by  contact  with  a  selfish  world,  as  life  wears  on,  and  changes 
the  boy  dreamer  into  a  real  actor  on  the  stage  of  life,  selfish  and  cal- 
culating as  his  fellow  men. 

I  have  been  told,  by  some  of  these  store  keepers,  that  they  had 
traded  in  the  country  when  there  was  no  money,  not  even  a  five  ceiit 
piece,  to  be  seen  for  years ;  the  medium  of  trade  consisting  of  stock 
and  produce,  which  was  raised  at  home  and  disposed  of  to  the  traded 
for  goods,  who  in  turn  transported  it  out  of  the  country  and  brought 
bade  goods  in  exchange.  The  specie  currency  of  the  country  consists 
now  of  gold  and  silver,  no  copper  being  in  use,  and  the  smallest  coin 
h&sig  the  half  dime,  as  the  three  c«nt  pieces  have  not  come  into  gen^ 
ral  use,  probably  on  account  of  their  repugnance  to  small  divisions  cf 
coin.  A  Hawkeye  will  throw  away  a  penny,  rather  tjian  carry  it  iti 
hiis  pocket.  The  diange  is  dimes,  bits  and  quarters,  the  ^^  bit "  being 
the  same  as  the  shilling  in  the  eastern  country,  twelve  and  a  half  centt. 
A  shilfing  is  understood  to  be  sixteen  and  a  half  cents,  though  it  te 
never  used. 

A  peculiar  feature  of  the  country  is  the  Methodist  camp  meeting!, 


<    I    I    ■■  II  I  ■  II  ■  I  ■!  I  I  ^  ■  »  11  ■     I  ■  p      ■  II 

xmuilj  called  ^big  meetina,"  to  which  the  whoto  oountry  4oek  vai^ 
tfirimiQatelj.  Men,  iroaicii,  and  <^14ren,  turn  out  by  hun^edtai, 
floaaefeimeBa  vhole&mily  Auttang  up  houae  and  tiikitig  »  rude  teot 
idtk  them,  and  a  aupp]j  of  pttivisioiia,  travel  twenty,  forty^  and  fifify 
milea,  to  tiie  ^}ng  meetin,"  Hud  setting  up  thcfir  tent  on  the  ^p-ounda 
.a|ip^pmted  for  the  gaitheiiBg,  donikeatioalie  ^thema^tlves  for  thb  aeaaoa, 
landl  tibere  they  will  atay,  aa  long  as  Ihere  ia  a  preal^her  with  bveath 
«kioiigh  left  to  exhort  to  repentance,  or  a  "  mourner  "  to  be  brought 
to  ilia  Imeea.  What  might  be  ottMo-wiae  a  good  thing,  is  apoikd  %^ 
ittua  aarffeiiM  protraction.  The  proper  ^rder  of  thiqga,  for  the  Jtime 
Mng,  is  reversed.  Home  duties  are  neglieoted,  no  bumees  is  taui- 
wnted  for  weeks  and  weelcs,  nothing  is  aUowed  to  interfore  with  the 
lapititual  fervor  that  .pervades  the  community.  Many  go  £ram  a  seaae 
^  dvty,  atid  labra  from  a  feeUng  of  0iirio8ity«  and  rlove  of  the  «n- 
sounded  exc&iemeiit  wfaioh  always  prevails  oa  suoh  ooaawotia.  lliaf 
ive  direoted  by  five  or  six  mimaters,  whose  duties  oonsiat  an  reiieviag 
.gaa.another  <rf  ihe  aidiioua  and  edbaustiag  labors  to  wUch  they  sab- 
^e^t  tfaemselTca  in  the  performaaee  of  lihtir  tooatioii.  Thc^  are  aoMi 
<of  rsog^  and  unpoHshed  exsterior,  but  possessiiig  hearts  bo«nd  up  in 
Aair  work,  and  an  energy  of  eharacter,  and  devotion  lo  the  oauae  w>i 
lAways  found  in  man  <]/f  more  fished  delivery,  and  emdite  attain- 
•mants.  It  is  no  diffioult  matter  to  find  grammatioal  flaws  in  their  d3a> 
adurses,  or  enovs  of  general  knowledge  of  things,  even  of  the  Bible; 
-%nt  it  woold  trouble  our  learned  and  profound  divines  to  ada{kt  them- 
-inlvea  more  readUy  to  their  hearers,  or  to  eaise  an  audience  to  dm 
pitch  of  excitement  and  enthusiasm  which  they  never  fail  to  inspire. 

Beiiig  often  called  iqxm  to  officiate  in  this  capadty,  tliey  naturally 
rfrU  into  the  peculiar  strain  of  delivery  in  vc^e  upon  such  occasions, 
4uid  iheir  old  and  time  honored  ai;guments,  operate  upon  the  unquea- 
4ioi^ag  hearers  .fiur  more  dTectually  than  would  the  subtle  logic  adap- 
4^  to  more  eukivated  understandings.  I  onoe  knew,  in  the  intedor 
jo(  Wisconsin,  one  of  these  "  Evangelists,"  as  they  are  called,  who 
<tlonld  actually  n^peat^  word  for  word,  any  verse  in  the  Bible  which 
JW^ht  be  called  for  by  naming  chapter  and  verse  at  random.  He  poa- 
^saaaedi  nlso,  a  fiMmlty  of  working  upon  the  sensibilities  of  his  bearers> 
40  a  remarkable  degree,  brii^gi]^  them  bj  hnndreda  to  their  kneeii 
^mi  to  the  anxiouaseat)  in  tears,  groans  and  supplications.  Hia  dia- 
.tawsea  irere  delivered  extemjpocaneousljfiy  and  chi^pter  after  cluster  of 
Aebol^aetipturea  poure^  foirth  from  hisil\ps  with  a  rapidity  and  oor- 
reotneas  which  were  aatoniahing. 


TRiL^sts  icr  mi  »mia  imr.  m 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH-W£8T. 


■r  •nitev  AitttAWAY,  '■q.»  o»  uMNrmi  u. 


CHAPTKK  IIL 


LiTTLK  Rock,  ArfcftnmM%  Nov.  185  . 

%.:  in  my  profress  tbns  te,  I  liave  givoi  you  Iwo  letM^i 
tMiifinif  p^rsouAl  iacidcinls,  and  giTing  some  aoeounfc  of  tiie|weiiliar 
iteftf^  6f  dM  oottutry  Hirough  wUdi  I  lunre  paBsed.  Yxmiamy^mjiih^X 
-ibiNdd  I  dttl  teflB  in  liie  ftfnn^  iad  mere  in  tbe  latter,  you  «KiQldte 
"^diirlKttterplMnd.  Perluipe,M  1  progveB8,8iidimikjbeili6ciae»  ¥tm 
^InmriHA  me  nothing  is  studied,  and  f  write  attftie<momettk  wbol  negr 
^'npfehatm  in  mind,  "be  it  wlut  it  may. 

I'faat^  flow  to  give  you  on  aeoount  of  my  journey  firom  like  ^  BiaSV^ 
to  the  "  Rock." 

Hot  Wiflhing  to  again  try  the  otoge,  hoviiig  been  fully  satiofied  with 
4iBtmode(of  oonreyonoe,  in  the  journey  deeoribed  in  fifty  laBt,Iaofight 
'oaetlMr  mode.  Afbermuoh  trouble  and  delay,  I  proeiired  the  eooMttt 
lof  Ibe  keeper  of  a  liYcry  stable  in  the  place  to  send  me  to  "  the  Bock,*^ 
In  a  buggy.  Jb  traveling  in  the  South  you  beoome  astonished  at  the 
^iitle  attrition  men  pay  to  their  business.  The  idea  appeals  to  be 
very  prevalent,  that  if  a  1)U8iness  is  once  started,  it  must  take  joave  «f 
itself    It  eertalnly  must  be  a  poor  business  tltat  w^l  not  do  'that ! 

As  an  evsienoeof  thds,  I  would  remark,  that  there  are  two  slafaleaat 
liie  Bkd&,  where  it  is  said  horses  and  carriages  are  let  I  soon  osoer- 
-teitied  that 'the  entire  stook  of  each  consisted  of  «  few  broken  down 
^no^  and  bug^ea  equally  out  of  repmr— 4Hkd  so  wdH  attended  to  ore 
Hiey  by  the  ph)prietors,  tkiU;  I  was  necessitated  to  eall  se^ecol  tiBoea 
'Adring  the  day,  before  I  could  ikid  either  at  home.  One  of  themhod 
igohe'inte  the  ^  bottom,"  on  the  opposite  aide  of  the  river^  huating'wild 
^iMttibs ;  WUIe 'tlie  other  was  enjoying  a  social  ^aes  at  4  evi^fHi  or 
^f  tenhtege,"  near  b'y«  Drinking  houees  in  this  couatry  are  .muve9imiU[y 
«itta4  ^'AKshongBt^"  lanppose  ki  itaitMMm  «if  the  Exdioi^  at  New 
OIleiiMv  from  wUeh  ^laee  tlia  tone  «tld^a^to  of  limiig.  m  derived 
nBoangn  mtB-  legienM 


'1^  TKKTBXS  IN'  7HB  SOUTH  WOST. 

-  —  -  —    ■  -    -         -  — ^^^^^"^^^^^'^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^'^^^^^^"^ 

I  found  it  necessary  to  make  several  bargains  with  him,  before  he 
would  undertake  to  carry  either  out,  and  was  then  doomed  to  wait 
two  entire  days,  before  he  made  any  demonstrations  of  execution. 

Money  appeared  to  be  his  principal  object,  and  as  long  as  there 
was  the  hope  oi  extorting  an  additional  dollar,  he  allowed  the  time  for 
departure  to  pass,  and  tiieu  for  some  flimsy  exdiise,  add  to  the  price 
already  agreed  upon. 

Monday  morning  came,  but  with  it  no  horse  or  buggy,  as  I  had 
reason  to  expect.  The  entire  morning  was  spent  in  susp^iae  and 
expostulations,  when  I  supposed  that  that  day  too  would  terminate  as 
others  had  done,  in  disappointment,  and  at  night  I  be  found  at  the 
Blufb.^    At  length  1  was  greeted  with  the  sound  of  wheels  approaching 

""  White's  Tavern,"  with  the  cheering  intelligence  that  all  was  ready^ 
My  baggage  being  readily  disposed  o^  1  set  out,  but  b^ove  J  had 

ivebUy  tone  to  take  a  survey  of  tiie  equipments,  we  were  broQi^t  to  a 
liUt,  by  some  part  of  die  harness  giving  way,  letting  tbe  thills  down 
about  the  horse's  heels.    This  break  was  repaired  by  the  driver  bring- 

'  in^  his  handkerchief  into  requisition ;  on  we  moved,  buibefeire  leaving 

vtihe  town  plat,  he  suddenly  bethought  himsdf  of  some  matters  he  mmt 
then  and  there  attend  to,  so,  ^top  again  was  the  word ;  another  houWs 
detdn^ion  was  the  residt,  so  that  it  was  about  mid  day  when  we  6&rly 
set  out. 

*  Our  way  lay  over  siterite  hills,  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of  oak, 
and  slender  pines.  No  settlements  greeted  the  eye.  Not  a  cabin 
enlivened  the  scene.  All  was  dull  monotony ;  a  constant  suooession 
of  sand  hills ;  and  to  add  to  my  discomfiture,  the  horse  was  a  poor 
jaded  creature,  without  flesh  or  muscle ;  slowly  and  wearily  he  dra^jed 
himself  along,  and  Uiis  too,  when  I  had  agreed  to  pay  thirty-flve  cents 
p^r  mile  passage.  * 

Sometime  afier  night  &11,  we  arrived  at  a  large  log  cabin,  newly 

erected  by  the  road  side,  and  not  yet  more  than  half  finished.   '  The 

roof  was  partly  on,  and  the  chimney  had,  as  yet,  attained  but  fbiir  feet 

'^Blevation.    There  was  no  '^chinking"  between  the  l^gs,  and  the  floor 

wiM  but  partly  laid.     It  could  not  boast  of  an  "  up-staars,"  although  it 

was  intended  for  a  two  story  building.    At  this  place  they  keep  tavern, 

and  here,  it  was  my  intention  to  pass  the  night.  *  A  black  boy  met  us 

■at  tbe  door,  giving  the  welcome  intelligenoe  that  we  could  remain,  if  it 

watt  our  pl^Basure,  and  that  he  had  plenty  of  ^com  and  fbdder*'  lK>r  tte 

hone;    Wishing  to  be  relieved  from  the  sight  of  the  poor,  misembte 

^^xsxA  th«thad  brought  us  thus  far,  I  gladly  embnioed  l^e  opfmrta 

>ti%  that  ofihred.    At  fint-^  proipeet  looked  cbserlesi  eftoogh^lMlL 

a  fire  being  ''made  on,"  in  the  half  grovm  chimnsy,  I  AmnM  \  w«s4li 


IHCI])|;NX&^  IJT9XB  BQOK. 


the  bosae  of  those  who  bad  seen  refinement,  and  were  not  strangers. tp 
.jUie  litturies  of  life.  It  was  tbe  bouse  of  widow.  Her  husband,  who 
bad  been. a  man  of  much  energy,  died  some  four  montbs  before  leay- 
ifigthe  bouse,  in  tbe  oondition  in  wbicb.  I  have  described  it  He  was 
the  owner  of  a  rich  plantation  on  tbe  bank  of  tbe  river,  six  miles  dis- 
tant ;  but  for  tbe  sake  of  health,  bad  commenced  a  bouse  in  tbe  hillti 
where  be  expected  to  make  bis  future  home.  But  he  had  been  oalled 
to  the  spirit  land,  while  his  ^idow  and  children  were  left  to  occupy 
the  unfinished  premises. 

A  warm  supper,  after  so  duU  a  ride,  was  relished  with  great  zest. 
Other  travelers  made  their  appearance.     A  young  man,  a  printer  by 
profession,  who  learned  his  business  in  the  office  of  the  Journal  qt 
Commeroe,  of  N.  Y.  eity,  had  launched  bis  bark  on  the  great  ocean  of 
lifid)  and  was  now  &irly  on  bis  ''  voyage  to  see  the  world/'  seeking  bia 
.  jfortune.     1  found  him  quite  intelligent,  being  versed  in  the  ordinary 
.  topics  of  the  day,  and  having,  during  the  past  year,  ^^  tramped"  throu^^ 
.  six  states.     A  fleshy  Scotchman,  who  resided  near  the  Rock,  where  he 
had  been  some  nineteen  years,  told  many  anecdotes  of  tbe  past,  sod 
gave  mvcb  information  in  relation  to  tbe  history  of  tbe  State.     A 
company  of  horse  traders,  who  were  returning  fi*om  a  trip  in  tbe  "  low 
:  country"  in  pursuit  of  their  avocation,  completed  the  company  for  the 
n^bt.    At  an  early  hour  we  disposed  of  ourselves  as  best  we  could, 
for  sleep— on  beds,  on  chairs,  on  the  sofa,  and  on  the  floor.     By  keep- 
ing up  a  Are  in  the  chlmneyless  fireplace,  the  company  were  able  to 
get  through  the  night  with  comfort. 

A  cup  of  coflee  was  very  welcome  in  tbe  morning,  soon  afl;er  which 
we  set  out  with  our  scrawny  horse,  which  moved  as  though  he  had  the 
rickets.  The  Rock  was  thirty-two  miles  distant,  at  which  plac^  we 
arrived  at  the  dose  of.tbe  day,  having  been  more  than  twelve  hours  in 
performing  what,  with  a  good  horse,  could  have  been  accomplished  in 
firom  five  to  six  hours. 

Little  Rock  is  located  on  tbe  South  bank  of  the  Arkansaw  riven 

three  hundred  miles  from  its  mouth,  by  way  of  the  river,  and  one  bun- 

;dred  and  twenty-five  by  land.    It  is  quite  prettily  situated,  on  a  high, 

.gravelly  blufll^  and  is  ironically  named,  from  the  '*  prodigious  size  and 

maBflOfl  of  rock  about  it."    it  is  a  place  of  no  trade,  except  what  tl^e 

legialature  and  various  courts,  by  holding  their  sessions  here,  bring  iU 

Being  the  capital  of  the  State,  it  has  an  importance  which  it  could  in 

jQO  otiier  way  attain.    The  region  of  country,  for  a  long  distance,  botjh 

4bove  and  below,  on  this  side  of  tbe  riveif,  is  poor,  and  in  many  placoa 

bordering  on  sterility.  ^ 

ft.   Tbe;a«fdtol,  when  saw,  .vas.  rather  ^  ^mpottng  bpitding*  bHt 


^m  TBArmA  nr  ran  mrmt  iner. 

In  tti^va&ccd  itate  of  dilapidation,  it  produoM  lui  impkiMiM;  dMt 
on  t^  mind  of  a  stranger.  It  ia  built  in  the  Grecian  style  of  Wdifiise- 
tmfe,  witli  oolonade  front  and  rear ;  on  tbe  bank  of  the  riTer ;  -er,  ntoito 
propeHy  speaking,  where  the  river  used  to  run,  ibt  the  water  isnow'tt) 
toir  that  it  would  be  really  a  misnomer  to  dignify  it  by  tbiit  uppiiBt^ 
lation. 

The  lower  part  of  the  main  building  is  devoted  to  'dfioea,  find  tile 
Moond  story  to  the  Hall  of  the  House  t)f  Representatlvee  and  fiktisffe 
Chamber,  with  a  large  two  story  building  on  ^esidh  side,  Affiiirdllig 
iK>oms  !br  I^islative  committees,  but  in  a  like  (Hate  of  deeay.  After 
the  State  consents  to  pay  the  interest  on  her  bonds,  I  suppose  she  ^11 
Impair  her  capitol,  but  when  that  is  done  will  be  w^en  a  dStteffMim 
6f  men  from  those  now  m  office,  preside  over  he^  destfaiies.  All  lbs 
Bthsets  of  the  town  are  wide,  and  cross  ea^^h  dther  at  right  tt»j^; 
they  are  generally  uneven,  very  little  attention  having  b^en  ^A  Ho 
improving  them.  The  many  little  hills  hi  different  paa^ts  of  tbe  town, 
eovered  wit^  a  natural  growich  of  «mall  oaks  and  pines,  bmiiAi  beasHi* 
ihl  sites  for  private  residences,  and  pat  a  few  riei^  ein(beliiAMd  mMl 
"native  flowers  and  exotic  shrubbery. 

'To  see  fine  grounds  tastefully  laid  out.  In  a  place  whe#e  1  kad  %ittt 
Itttle  reason  to  expect  any  thing  of  the  kind,  was  peeuliariy  gra(tlfyittg; 
but  when  those  grounds,  as  late  in  the  season  as  the  seVenth  ef  Mis- 
vember,  were  all  adorned  and  beautified  with  roses,  i^tfaeas,  -eripe 
myrtle,  and  aiters,  of  every  hue  and  shade, «  juncture  not  usitaHy  ovst 
with,  was  presented,  for  pleasing  and  delightftil  eontemplation. 

If  '*  lawyers  houses,*'  as  the  old  adi^  has  it,  ^  are  built  With  fools 
money,"  (you  will  pardon  my  allusion,)  then  indeed  there  most  be 
many  citizens  who  are  placed  in  that  category,  fbr  the  best,  «iio*t 
Oostiy,  as  well  as  most  tastefully  arranged  Innises  are  owned  and 
occupied  by  members  of  that  fraternity. 

This  place  numbers  among  its  residents  several  membeire  at  ti» 
profession,  whose  reputation  as  sound  lawyers,  and  advocates,  is  not 
confined  to  the  limits  erf  the  State.     Amo^  t^ese  dfetingdiiAied  per- 
sons, there  is  one  more  distinguished  still.    I  need  not  si(y  to  yoai 
refer  to  the  poet-soldier  and  philosopher ;  lor  who  has  not  bung  with 
tstpture  on  his  measured  strains  of  melody — lines  which  breathe  Ihs 
'thie  genius  of  poetry— -or  listened  to  the  tt^es  of  his  (chivalry  wiiile  lit 
'^1^  head  of  his  brave  Arkahsaw  band,  in  one  of  the  most  sanguinaiy 
'Wttles  in  the  war  with  Mexico;  or  with gmvie  attention peruifeddiDiB 
^pUge^  which,  amidst  his  pf  ofessiomd  engagements  'he  has  'oooanoQatfy 
llurown  off  for  the  benefit  of  the  public 

Iti^be  you  unll  (NDraoa  i^  peHM>bal  deaeriptloA.    In  itiim,lis  'm 


A  PSEB  AMONG  PlfiStta.  S3B 

ihe  ordtnary  height,  with  firm  and  elastic  tread,  broad  chest  anfthotd- 
ders,  well  proportioned,  with  high  and  slightly  receding  forehead, 
^yoKTj  projectile  1[>row,  sheltering  an  eye  not  remarkable  for  brilKan- 
cgFy  unless  it  be  lit  up  in  the  excitement  of  debate,  but  of  a  soft  and 
^easing  look,  a  countenance  at  once  expressive  of  kindness  and  sym- 
jathy. 

He  is  somewhat  eccentric  in  his  dress,  eschewing  all  convenlional 
rules,  such  as  are  established  by  the  aristocracy  of  fashion.  In  fiict, 
he  seems  to  delight  in  dressing,  in  opposition  to  &8hion ;  for  in  him 
we  see  -the  reverse  of  the  picture  usually  presented  by  that  Bckle  6od- 
4aaa,  At  a  time  wfien  most  gentlemen  wear  the  smooth  silken  hat, 
lie  may  be  seen  with  caput  covering  after  the  &shion  of  our  revolu- 
tionary sires,  only  lacking  the  three  cornered  form  of  brim,  his  coat 
after'  the  modem  style,  while  his  pants  are  wide  and  flowing,  when 
^tii^ts**  are  the  order  of  the  day.  His  beard  and  moustache  are  of 
most  huge  dimensions^  while  a  heavy  suit  of  hair  hangs  in  chisterin 
jnasses  on  his  neck  and  shoulders.  He  has  recently  published  an 
edition  of  his  poems,  for  private  distribution.  Happy  indeed  will  b^ 
those  who  receive  from  his  hand  so  rich  a  boon  as  one  of  these  vol- 


His  residence  is  in  one  of  the  most  pleasant  parts  of  the  city,  of 
ample  4imen^ions,  with  extensive  grounds,  in  a  high  state  of  cultiva- 
tion, shrubbery  and  exotics  of  choice  varieties  are  scattered  with  a 
profuse  hand,  adding  the  charms  of  blossom  and  perfume  to  the  agree- 
able and  pleaisant  scene.  Every  where,  almost,  the  premises  are  visi- 
ble evidences  of  luxury,  ^ease,  and  taste.  This  is  indeed  the  residence 
of  a  poet. 

llie  Government  has  an  arsenal  here,  the  situation  of  which  is  very 
beautiful.  The  plat  of  ground  on  which  it  is  built  is  quite  extensive, 
and  very  beautifliliy  laid  out ;  yet,  I  thiulc  a  few  more  trees,  properly 
located,  would  add  to  its  beauty.  The  buildings,  like  most  that  Unde 
Sam  erects,  are  of  a  substantial  character,  and  well  designed  for  the 
purposes  intended. 

Here  resides  iiie  celebrated,  if  not  notorious,  minister,  of  Greytown 
memory,  whom  the  dignified  editor  of  the  Tribune,  of  N.  Y.  city,  calls 
the  ^  bully  of  the  SoutL^'  When  I  first  saw  him,  I  involuntarily 
looked  for  the  mark  made  by  the  mudi  noted  bottle  which  is  said  to 
have  come  in  severe  contact  with  the  most  prominent  part  of  his 
oountenance,  while,  as  he  contends,  in  the  fiuthful  disduurge  of  his  min- 
isterial duty  as  the  representative  of  this  Government;  but  as  others 
•ay  (very  improperly,  no  'doubt,)  he  was  in  one  of  his  bullying  gia- 
eonades.    But  I  could  see  no  mark ;  if  any  was  ever  there,  time,  the 


m 


TBABLS  l^  THE  SOUTH  WEST. 


great^hysician,  had  quite  obliterated  it.  I  presume  the  impression 
made  by  a  certain  Senator  on  the  nasal  organ  of  poor  Kenedj,  was  of 
a  more  enduring  character.  I  learn  he  has  finished  his  political  careei'j 
jand  is  now  settled  down  as  plain  Dr.  B.,  physician  and  pharmacist    *' 

The  people  of  the  State,  considering  that  not  much  credit  was 
acquired  by  his  course,  either  at  home  or  abroad,  it  is  suggested,  will 
allow  him  to  pursue  the  even  tenor  of  his  way  amid  patent  med- 
icines and  gamboge. 

The  Legislature  of  this  State  is  now  in  session ;  all  its  members, 
uniting  with  the  citizens  of  the  place,  have  resolved  to  give  a  public 
pinner  to  the  renowned  editor*^of  the  Louisville  Journal,  who  happeils 
to  be  in  the  city,  engaged  in  rail  road  business.  It  will  "  come  off** 
to-morrow  night.  I  am  told  the  poet  above  referred  to,  takes  the  lead 
in  the  matter,  and  from  his  well  known  ability  in  such  things,  it  is  sup- 
posed it  will  be  a  very  brilliant  affair. 

The  public  house  at  which  I  am  stopping,  the  principal  one  in  the 
city,  is  crowded  to  overflowing,  and  is  very  unpleasant  in  other  res- 
pects. Methinks  the  man  who  leaves  his  home,  and  his  ordinary 
accupation,  to  come  to  such  a  place,  and  live  after  the  manner  mem- 
bers of  the  Legislature  do  here,  for  three  months  in  the  year,  must 
.  require  more  than  the  usual  amount  of  patriotism,  or  desire  for  dis- 
tinction. But  so  it  is.  We  find  men  using  the  most  strenuous  efiorts 
^to  be  elected  to  such  stations ;  to  be  traduced  and  vilified  while  seek- 
ing them,  and  abused  and  complained  of  while  in  the  discharge  of  duty. 

Office  seeking  in  this  country  is  really  a  mania  with  some  people, 
and  often  times  proves  a  rock  on  which  the  best  minds  are  wrecked. 
I  consider  it  a  most  unfortunate  circumstance  in  the  history  of  a  young 
man,  to  have  him  elected  or  appointed  to  oflice.  It  renders  him  incii- 
pable  of  giving  that  attention  to  business,  which  it  really  requires.  It 
makes  him  reckless  in  manner,  and  dissolute  in  habits,  and  generally 
renders  him  unfit  for  the  ordinary  duties  of  life.  To  make  office  seek- 
ing a  profession,  is  indeed  to  launch  one's  bark  on  a  troublous  sea, 
where  the  voyager  would  be  likely  to  be  stranded  with  every  varying 
tide.  No  person  should  take  a  political  office  until  he  has  seen  yeaHi 
\  enough  to  have  his  habits  fixed  and  character  fully  formed.  This 
Lj;§i:fil^c-43ccurs  until  he  has  seen  his  fortieth  year. 


'h: 


AirOTHEK  STAGE  TILT.  231* 


OHAPTBB.  IV.  #      .  . 

LowBiNo^s  Banch,  Texas,  November^  185  . 

DxAR  R. — ^I  hAve  had  a  long  and  toilsome  ride  to-day,  and  feel^ 
much  inclined  to  take  rest,  but  not  haying  written  for  about  two  weeiks, 
r  fear  you  will  think  I  have  quite  forgotten  you,  so  I  Mill  endeavor  to 
send  you  a  line  from  this  remote  quarter.    . 

Since  my  last  I  have  passed  over  about  six  hmidred  miles  of  coun- 
try ;  some  accidents  have  be&llen  me,  and  the  journey  has  not  been 
entirely  devoid  of  inddent. 

I  left  the  Rock  by  stage,  drawn  by  Mir  small  horses,  such  a?  are 
usually  found  in  the  South,  for  similar  purposes,  inferior  in  size  and 
poorly  fed  and  cared  for.  It  was  not  far  from  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  when  a  messenger  to  my  room  announced  that  the  stage  was 
ready.  I  had  been  previously  awakened,  in  great  haste,  and  brought 
to  the  bar-room,  where  lingered  many  persons  in  the  far  gone  stages 
of  inebriation,  to  be  in  time  for  the  stage,  but  as  I  soon  ascertained,  fbr 
the  real  purpose  of  giving  my  bed  to  a  gentleman,  who,  without  such 
a  device,  would  probably  go  bed-less  tUl  a  late  hour.  I  gladly  gave 
lieed  to  the  call  and  took  my  position  at  the  coach  door,  which  proved 
to  be  a  vehicle  designed  for  six  passengers.  The  door  was  opened, 
the  driver  invited  me  to  take  a  seat,  being  the  only  passenger,  save  a 
station  keeper,  whose  location  was  distant  a  dozen  miles,  when  to  my 
amazement  I  found  the  "  coach  "  filled  to  overflowing  with  mail  bags. 
It  was  with  difficulty  I  could  get  enough  of  them  removed  to  enable 
me  to  get  a  seat.  I  protested  that  I  had  had  enough  of  mail  riding  on 
the  route  from  Napoleon  to  the  Bluffs.  After  the  usual  exhibition  of 
ill  temper,  and  the  pouring  out  of  several  volumes  of  oaths  and  impre- 
cations on  the  part  of  the  driver,  I  succeeded  in  getting  some  of  the 
sacks  removed  to  the  boot,  and  I  took  a  seat.  It  was  a  cold  frosty 
night,  the  first  of  the  season,  I  felt  it  severely.  The  horses  felt  the 
inflnence  of  this  visitation  of  the  frost  king,  and  as  if  to  bid  him  defi- 
ttiee,  sped  away  at  a  rapid  rate,  up  and  down  the  many  hills  on 
our  route.  May  be  a  certain  king  of  another  description  had  soinie- 
diing  to  do  wiUi  our  speed,  for  my  fellow  passenger,  tae  driver's  boon 
ocympanion,  had  been  indulging  freely  in  his  cups,  and  suffered  much 
from  th&  chilly  air. 

He  bi^kfkst  stew  was  st  9enton,  a  poor  looking  place,  with  the 
marks  of  decay  visible  at  every  turn,  the  seat  of  justice  of  a  very  poor 
county.  It  was  at  this  place  uie  populace  of  this  and  adjoining  coun- 
ties, with  mob  videnoe  and  force,  nut  a  few  days  before  my  visit,  took 
from  the  jaU,  a  negro,  who  was  accused  of  some  crinie,  and  hung  him 
on  a  tree  dear  by,  till  he  was  dead,  the  sheriff  and  a  few  dtizens  of  t)ie 
better  dass,  resisting  them.    The  reason  of  this  unlawful  act  cannot 


m  TRA.VELS  m  THB  SOUTH  WBST. 


be  readily  asoertained.  Hie  oalprit  was  in  oonfinement  awaiting  Vm 
trial.^  lliere  was  no  danger  tint  Ae- tew  would  loose  its  viotinif  for 
he  was  in  safe  keeping,  and  if.  he  was  guilty  of  the  commission  of  aar 
orime,  that  would  soon  be  asoertained ;  ana  if  not  guilty,  no  reasonable 
b^ff  would  B§x  he  ahovU  be  puniahedv  The  ,oply  aolutioQ  tbul  L  eaa 
find  &r  the  Tiolent  oujbbreak«  wiva  meirely  the.g]:iitiificaUQ&  oCa^qiiatoC 
iosubordioatioB  to  law  and  good  order.  Willai^y  on«^  pretend  tp  8%^ 
that  the  acts  of  these  parties  was  any  thing  short  of  wilnd.  and  dclllbe* 
rate  murder,  and  that  the  punishment  due  to  the  crime  dkould  not  ber 
meeted  out  to  them  f 

At  Benton  I  was>  only  twettty  miles  firom  tke<oelebntadbEbak£l|^r3i^ 
of  Arkansas,  of  the  waters  of  which  we  hear  «p<mueh  sajd*  iH/Ovm^ 
aU  aorta  of  maladi0S.  I  repotted  that,  my  eogpKgements.  wowld  fot 
permit  me  to  pay  liiem  a  visit. 

I  reached  the  town  of  Washington  on  the  evening  of  the  second,  day, 
and  a  more  dull,  barren,  and  uninteresting  country  for  the  same  d&» 
tanoe,  I  think  it  would  be  difficult  to  find.  The  road  is  one  tjbat  hm 
been  to  many  years  the  great  thonoughfive  to  Tens  and  die  hdiM 
Nationa  on  tbe  South*  Western  borders:  of  die  St^.  At  m  early,  dey 
many  emigrants  settled  along  this  road,  and  endeavored  to  mak^ 
^  improvements^'^  but  after  dragging  out  years  of  misery,  have  been 
compelled  to  abandon  all  they  had  done,  and  seek  hom^  in  more  pro- 
pitious spots.  What  few  remain,  eke  out  a  scanty  subsistence,  by  tbs 
precarious  means  of  hunting,  and  getting  »  few  shillings- now  and  thaa 
myra  wayftrers  or  emigrants. 

hi  the  neighhorhood  of  Waehingtoa  diere  are  some  good  landf^ 
which  enfaerpcising  VirginiA  setders,  taking  hold  of  sqme  twenty  years 
ago,  have  converted  into  beautiful  plantadons.  Washington  is  the 
retail  town  for  quite  an  extent  of  country,  containing  two  hotels,  ite 
stores,  a  school,  and  some  mechanic  shops.  There  are  plaoea  whei% 
religious  meetings  are  held.  It  has  probably  alstained  its  BUuqmiaiLin 
siae  and  impertanoe,  as  most  of  the  good  land  in.  the  nei^borhood  ifi 
now  in'oiddvadiHi.  It  is  aituate  cot  a  hill,  where  dia  sand. in  theatreqit 
ia^firom  six  to  eight  inches  deep,  but  inasmuch  as  they  have  left  most 
of  the  native  growth  of  dwarf  paka  standing,  it  is  not  an  unpleasant 
jplace.  Here  I  determined  to  abandon  the  stage  rout,  whicn  would 
nave  taken  me  to  Clarksville,  Texas,  and  strike  Red  IUv»  at  a  mbfe 
southerly  point  My  means  of  conveyance  was  what  is  denomiwMd 
in  this  oonntry  a  *'  hack,"  » species  of  canriage-resembimg  a  oonioMp 
Jersey  market  wagon,  drawn  by  two  horoesi  My  driver,,  smvllsik), 
with  the  frosts  of  some  forty  wmteraon  his  lochs,  was  dK  owneiw  At 
a  price  agreed  upon,  he  was  to  take  ma  ix>  a  certain  point  in  Tccaair 
which  womd  occupy  him  some  three  days.  .      4       « 

It  was  a  dear  msty  momifig  when  w^  sat  out  froaa^Smifetfs  tavern, 
wUdi  place  I  left  with  some  regret,  fer  my  ^wanta  had  lieen  wall 
attended' to  while  diere. 

I  was  tile  only  passenger  in  the  stage  from  the  Rodfe  to  TKaahte 
ton;  and  now  I  was  about  to  set  out  en^a  hma  mnnatenbof^  iM^  ww 
no  companion  but  the  ^boy  "  who drav«  dieherae8».  At duapbuM,  as 


weU  as  at  all  others  I  have  been  at  since  I  left  Cairo,  the  theme  of  oon- 
venation  with  all  persons,  has  been  rulroads. 

At  Memphis  it  was  th<)ir  four  roads,  but  the  oQe  ip  which  she  was 
particnlarlj  interested,  was  from  that  city  to  the  Rock.  It  appears 
that  Owg^esa^  has  donated  lands  to  aid  in  the  eonstmction  of  a  vaad 
inm  Fnitoq.tp  Cai^  and  a  branch  from  the  Rock  to  FortSmith^aad 
om  ivom,  the  asfOA  pl#pe  to  the  MwpisiNippi^  the  pf>int  opx  the  river,  to 
)m6fuA.  hy  tb/s  Legislature.  The  citiz«ns  of  Memphis  and  thosain 
Arkansas  who  reside  in  the  North  part  of  the  State,  are  in  fiwor  of 
that  f9i4e^  Bnt  Heleni^  and  Napoleon ! !  are  putting  in  their  claims 
ftw  Ik^  pffcsioua boon,  and|  of  ooursstmuoh  "legroUing"  is  to  be  seen 
aboMti  the  aapitoL  The  people  of  Washington  are  diz^ctly  interested 
in  the  voad  from  Fulton  to  Cairo,  as  weil  sa  the  Gains'  iMiding  road^ 
so  eaUed^  whieb  is  to  run  from  that  place  to  Red  River^  um>T  Shrevesr 
port^La. 

Mbmj  persona  along  the  routes  of  their  respective  roads  ave  taking 
aloek^  buti  ftney  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  any  dividends  will  be 
■ssliaed^  There  is  but  one  of  these  routes  that  will  elicit  foreign  cap^ 
tall  and.  wiAbcnt  that  aid  aeitfaeflr  can  be  built. 

But  I  fbar  I  am  detaining  you  too  long  with  these  uninteresting 
mattonik  I  will  hasten  on  with  my  journey.  1  found  my  boy  Charles 
disposed  to  be  very  loquacious^  Not  having  any  thing  more  interest 
kttg  to  do,  i  Usteaed  to  him.  He  was  very  respectful,  and  had  I  not 
shearfUly  given  him  permission  to  speak,  he  would  have  remained 
nlent.  He  gave  me  a  bit  of  hir^history,  and  in  aa  much  as  it  t^ads  to 
mnstrste  in  some  degree^  llie  working  of  the  peeoliar  institutaoa,  I 
will  giva  you  a  part  of  it. 

He  was  bom  a  slave  in  Virginia,  near  Lynehhurgh.  His  father  was 
a'  wealthy  gentleman  of  that  neighborhood  by  the  name  of  8«— p<-wi. 
His  mother  was  a  muUato  slave,  owned  by  his  &ther ;  md  as  be 
stated,  he  has,  still  living  near  the  old  homestead,  ti^ohal^  brothertwd 
the- same  number  of  sist^«,  all  wealthy,  moving  in  the  higher  walks 
of  Ulsi  His  &ther  always  reoogpiised  him  as.  his  son,  and  altbougli 
havitts  trettbed  aa  a  slave,  yet  it  was  wkAi  much  more  kindness- than 
iianaily  allotted  to  members  of  tba  biaok  family. 

•     NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 

(Ihe  Means  and  Endi  of  Ohiversal  JEducatum^  by  Ira  Maykew^  Svperintendeni  ofPuJb^ 
He  In8$rvction  ^f  &e  State  of  Michigan.  AtUhor  of  a  Practical  System  o  Book 
Xeqtingj  Ac    A.  S.  Barnes,  New  Torfr,  PubKshers,  veiy  handsomelj  got  rtp. 

Tbia  book  embraces  the  whole  range  of  topics  connected  with  a  complete  flytitem 
sf  edosatioii^  and  eadi  to|>ic  is  treated-  with  a  perspteoity  and'  JbMS  woi^  of  tiie 
•  Ussna*  Thst  work  is  lich  in  thiraahty  and  hipvf  in  iUbstoatiiiii,. and  axhibitois 
,  QOSasM^nsiV  in  its  nrstam  of-  adaptatioiy,  not  otoi  found  in  woi^ka  oni  poj^olpa' 
education.  The  people  of  Michigan  should  receive  it  as  a  nch  legacy.  Biappj  will 
it  be  for  their  children,  should  they  become  imbued  will)  its  principle^  and  spTrit — 
fttr  more  hqppy  than  to  be  made  the  recipients  of  boarded  treasure.  It  should  be 
the  hand-book,  the  daily  manual  of  instruction  in  the  most  inportaat  mattara'to 


tCha  woEk  was  tot  publiabed  undar  anpther  title,,  in  1850,  but  now  anpaBniiin 
a  new  style  and  dress,  and  asks  a  hearing  on  the  most  important  quesuon  e/er 
propounded  to  mortal  man.    If  ay  not  its  lessons  of  instruction  be  lost  upon  ua. ' 

For  sale  by  Kerr  4  Co.,  Detroit 


140  OITR  OITK  kVBAJfM. 

— '  ■  I  ■    ■■ 


SOMETHING  WORTH  TELLING. 

We  regard  it  as  sofmethfng  worth  telling,  that  eigkiy  copies  of  thift  magazine  am 
taken  in  a  single  fiirming  township  in  this  State.  That  banner  town  is  Plymontfa, 
tn  Wayne  Gountj,  and  the  individual  who  has  been  instrumental  in  ndsing  tto 
list,  is  the  Hon.  W.  H.  (xfegoiy,  known  to  all  our  readers  as  havhag  honOTaUy  dis- 
tinguished himself  in  our  State  Legislature. 

We  spealo  of  this  instance  to  show  our  Mends  eveiywhere  what  may  be  <kme 
with  a  little  effort  True,  the  scancity  of  money  is  well  nigh  unprecedented  in  ttiis 
State;  but  why  should  there  be  any  more  difficulty  ftom  this  source  in  other  places 
than  in  Plymouth?  It  is  true,  again,  that  the  minds  of  the  people  have  been  pre^ 
occupied  with  p<ditic^ibr  many  montbSi  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else; 
but  not  more  so  in  other  places  than  in  Plymouth;  and  no  one  in  the  State  hMi$, 
perhaps,  been  more  absorbed  in  politics  than  Mr.  Gregory  himselC  For  weeks  pre- 
vious to  the  meeting  of  the  Legislature,  he  was  incessantly  engaged  in  addressiBg 
the  people ;  and,  at  Lansing,  having  just  escaped  being  made  Speaker  of  the  Hoosei, 
he  had  assigned  him  the  Chairmanship  of  the  Oommittee  of  Ways  and  ICeaaii, 
besides  being  loaded  with  the  responnbilities,  to  a  oonsiderable  extent,  of  two  or 
three  other  committees,  and  was  thus  worked  almost  to  death.  Besides  all  tfaisi,  he 
has  had  a  dck  family  to  attend  to,  in  addition  to  the  routine  of  his  ordinary^  Iraai- 
ness,  ever  since  his  return  home.  And  yet,  he  has  found  time,  and  has  had  the 
Inclination,  and  possessed  the  nerve,  to  procure  eighty  subscribers  to  the  Magazine 
of  TraveL    Is  not  this  something  worth  telling? 

This  Magazine  eschews  politics,  as  all  our  read^ti  know.  Its  sole  missiott  ia  to 
create  and  foster  in  the  community  a  taste  for  useihl  and  instructive  reading.  And 
It  has  been  ih>m  a  desire  to  promote  this  end,'  that  Mr.  6*.  has  been  so  soUdtevs  to 
introduce  it  into  the  community  aronnd  hin^ — ^the  same  motive,  doubtless,  which 
has  led  him  to  deliver  a  course  of  lectures  to  young  men  in  that  neighborhood, 
which  we  have  heard  highly  commended. 

And  how  oan  men  of  standing  and  influence,  who  desire  to  see  the  commnnitieB 
■rofond  them  rising  in  inteDigenoe  and  moral  worthy  better  spend  a  small  portioBof 
iMr  time  ?  Many  of  oor  friends  have  acquitted  themselves  well,  and  laidi»imder 
special  obligations.  Outside  of  this  State,  our  largest  list  is  at  Laporte,  la,  (to 
^gHiich  place  about  thirty  copies  are  sent,)  which  has  been  gotten  up  mainly  by  B. 
JC  Newkirk,  Esq.,  who  seems  also  to  have  a  right  view  of  the  mianon  of  this 
Magazine. 

And  now,  we  want  all  our  friends  to  enlist,  and  let  us  see  what  can  be  done  in 
&»  next  few  weeks.  Let  every  subscriber  consider  himseUI  or  hers^  an  agent 
Let  each  canvass  thorong^y  his  or  her  respective  nei^boifaood,  and,  if  any  want 
indulgence  till  the  wool  crap  is  disporied  ci,  say,  till  the  middle  of  June,  let  it  |ba 
granted.  Those  who  have  already  sent  ns  lists  of  names,  will  have  tiie  advanta^ 
of  the  Magazine  being  more  known  around  tiiem.  Back  numbers  will  be  fbr- 
nlahed  to  all  new  subscribeni  There  is  nothing  like  mmettnett  in  such  a  matter. 
H  is  the  wiiole  seGTOt  of  saoeoaB. 

It  is  regarded  as  a  great  thing  to  establish,  on  a  permanent  iasifl^  any  new^  pyjb- 
Bflation;  but  we  are  on  the  highway  to  soooeaii  in  defiance  of  both  bard  timea  and 
pOUtics. 


^^m  0f  Crabel 


VOL.  I.]  JUNE,  1867.  [NO.  6. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


BT  KIT.  010.  IHrmiLD,  D.  O. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  town  of  Geneva  possesses  interest  to  travelers  of  different  tastes, 
as  the  abode  of  Calvin  and  of  Rosseaiu  Yet  the  house  where  the  lat- 
ter was  born  has  been  reconstructed  on  a  street  bearing  his  name ; 
while  the  house  in  which  Calvin  dwelt  is  not  known.  It  is  only  re- 
membered to  be  somewhere  on  the  Rue  dee  Chanones.  His  gi*ave  is 
also  imknown,  but  is  supposed  to  be  somewhere  on  or  near  where  a 
street  now  runs.  No  stone  ever  marked  it,  and  no  monument  bears 
his  name. 

Geneva  is,  with  scholars,  a  sanctuary  for  natural  science,  and  with 
the  patriot,  the  cradle  of  liberty.  1  rejoiced  in  the  influence  which 
had  gone  forth  thence,  and  had  contributed  so  greatly  to  mould  the 
character  of  our  country's  freedom,  and  to  shape  its  dfestiny.  An  ap- 
pearani^  of  ease  and  prosperity  presents  itself,  alike  in  the  town  and 
region  round.  The  fields  are  well  cultivated,  and  are  enclosed  with 
hedges.  The  chestnut  and  walnut  are  cultivated  as  trees  both  useful 
and  ornamental,  set  out  in  rows  along  the  roads,  and  the  impression 
made  upon  a  stranger  in  approaching  it,  as  we  did,  from  Nyon,  some 
eight  miles  up  the  lake,  is  very  favorable.  The  view  of  the  whole 
vidley,  along  the  margin  of  the  lake,  from*  the  top  of  the  mountain  we 
crossed,  was  exceedingly  fine. 

the  town  of  Geneva  is  the  chief  place  of  the  canton  of  that  name. 
It  is  situated  on  the  declivity  of  two  hills,  in  the  centre  of  the  basin 
formed  by  the  approach  of  the  Jura  and  some  secondary  chains  of  the 
Alpine  mountains,  at  the  place  where  Lake  Leman  terminates  in  a 
point,  and  where  the  Rhone  resumes  its  course.  Stately  edifices  bor- 
der the  quay  of  the  Rhone  to  some  extent,  givmg  to  the  place  an 


242  NOTES  OP  FOREIGN  TRAVEL 

aspect  of  regularity,  not  often  to  be  met  in  other  European  to^iis,  or 
in  its  ovm  interior.     From  the  hotel  de  I'Ecu,  where  we  abode,  ihe 
view  of  the  lake,  and  surrounding  mountains,  was  full  of  interest. 
The  former  divides  Savoy  and  Switzerland,  and  the  Jura  and  Alpine 
mountains,  stretching  some  fifty  or  more  miles  from  we^t  to  east,  and 
in  its  wido^st  part,  possessing  a  breadth  of  twelve  miles.     A  steam- 
boat leaves  (yeneva  every  day  at  8  o'clock,   A.   M.,   for   Vevay   and 
Villeneuve,  at  the  heiid  of  the  lake,  returning  at  2  P.  M.     The  popu- 
lation is  about  oO,000  and  its  inhabitants  drive  an  extensive  trade  in 
the  manufacture  and  sale  of  jewelry  and  watehes.     Its  hotels  are  nu- 
merous, and  said  to  be  generally  good.     Its  educational  institutions, 
both  public  and  private,  are  justly  celebrated  ;  its  Protestantism,  in 
this  respect,  contrasting  very  favorably  with  Catholic  cities  and  States. 
There  are  73  primary  schools,  having  5000  pupils,  in  which  education 
is  gratuitous.     The  School  of  Industry,  a   Gymnasium,   a  secondary 
School  for  females,  and  a  Cc3llege,  afford  opportunities  for  higher  grades 
of  instruction.     The  College  has  about  600  students,  who  are  distrib- 
uted, in  the  classical  department,  into  seven  classes  or  forms,  the  stu- 
dents passing,  each  year,  from  one  to  an(»ther ;  and  in  the  industrial 
and  commercial,  into  five.      Tiie  University  is  conducted  by   three 
Faculties :  one  of  Theology,  Que  of  Law,  and  one  of  Science  and  Lit- 
erature, numbering  twenty-three  Chairs  of  Professorship.     A  public 
library,  a  botanic  garden,  an  academic  museum,  and  an  observatory, 
afibrd  additional  advantages  to  scholars.     Beside  these  is  the  Evangel- 
ical Theological  Seminary,  where  Drs.  Merle  and   Malan,  &c.,  are 
professors,  of  private  endowment,  designed  to  counteract  the  rational- 
istic or  Unitarian  teaching  of  the  State  institution — a  free  gymnasium 
— ^a  school  of  industry — an  institution  for  deaf  mutes — schools  of  de- 
sign, of  watch  or  clock  making,  and  for  gymnastic  purposes — some 
supported  by  the  State,  and  others  supported  by  private  fiinds.    Men- 
dicity, such  as  offends  you  in  Catholic  countries,  is  interdicted  in  the 
canton ;  while  various  benevolent  institutions,  such  as  dispensaries, 
asylums  for  orphans,  the  aged,  and  infants,  and  hospitals,  dispense  the 
aid  and  sympathy  demanded  for  the  real  suffering  poor.     There  is  not^ 
however,  a  medical  school,  and  the  students  in  medicine  are  obliged  to 
repair  to  Paris,  or  into  Germany.     Regularly  admitted  medical  prac- 
titioners compose  the  medical  faculty,  and  all  applicants  for  admission 
to  practice  surgery,  medicine  and  pharmacy,  must  be  examined  by  the 
ooundl  of  health.     Certain  trader,  such  as  shoemakers,  tailors,  and 
locksmiths,  are  prosecuted  almost  wholly  by  foreigners,  principally 
Gennans,  and  domestics  are  furnished  from  Savoy. 
There  are  few  monuments  or  curiosities  of  interest  in  Geneva.    Hie 


b- — 


CATAEDRAL  OP  ST.  PETER.  243 

chief  to  me  is  that  of  the  Cathedral  or  Church  of  St.  Peter,  which 
stands  on  the  most  elevated  part  of  the  city,  and  is  of  the  Gothic 
style,  bearing  date  from  the  12th  to  the  15th  centuries.  It  is  con- 
structed in  the  form  of  the  Latin  cross,  its  greatest  length  being  187 
feet)  and  breadth  62;  the  arms  of  the  cross,  112;  height,  65  feet. 
The  building  is  lighted  by  eighty  windows ;  and  while  the  proportions 
of  the  interior  are  much  admired,  its  denuded  appearance  contrasts 
strikingly  with  the  grand  Roman  Cathedrals,  as  does  Protestai)tism 
with  Romanism.  A  few  slabs,  upon  the  pavement,  bear  the  memo- 
rials and  epitaphs  of  ancient  canons  of  St.  Peter,  who  died  before  the 
reformation ;  and  a  few  marble  monuments  of  those  illustrious  civil 
and  military  officers,  and  in  the  chapel  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  the  tomb 
of  the  Duke  Henry  of  Rohan,  head  of  the  Protestants  under  Louis 
XIll.  No  memorial  of  Calvin  appears  in  this  ^ifice,  where  his  wis 
dom  and  learning,  his  eloquence  and  piety,  contributed  so  much  to 
enlighten,  reform,  and  purify  the  Genevese  society  of  his  day.  A  few 
unpainted  benches,  with  backs  smoothed  by  age  and  use,  afford  aocom- 
modations,  in  a  part  of  th%  building,  for  congregations,  that  assenfble 
to  hear  preaching.  But  the  rationalism  taught  them  is  as  cold,  and 
lifeless,  and  soulless,  as  is  naked  stone  walls.  It  is,  and  ever  will 
prove,  in  due  time  a  curse  to  true  piety  and  godliness,  and  evangel- 
ical religion,  for  the  State  or  Government  to  control  in  such  matters. 
Our  blessed  Redeemer  forewarned  us  that  the  kingdoms  of  this  world 
were  not  and  would  not  be  Ilia  own,  till  at  his  coming  He  breaks  the 
nations  with  His  rod  of  iron,  and  establishes  His  kingdom  on  their 
ruins. 

In  1847  the  constitution  of  the  canton  of  Geneva  was  changed,  and 
with  the  new  government  ceased  the  protestant  exclusive  supremacy. 
It  is  now  a  pure  representative  democracy,  in  which  the  liberty  of  the 
press,  of  industry,  of  worship,  and  the  right  of  petition,  with  the 
inviolable  sacredness  of  household  freedom,  are  guaranteed.  The  ma- 
jority of  the  population  is  at  present  protestant.  That  of  the  Catholic, 
introduced  from  other  cantons,  and  abroad,  is  about  one^third,  and  is 
rapidly  increasing.  The  mild  Unitarian  rationalism  and  infidelity  in 
the  established  protestant  church,  is  not  the  thing  to  protect  the  rights 
of  conscience,  or  perpetuate  the  liberty  of  the  inhabitants.  However 
much  may  be  expected  from  the  evangelical  ^*  dissenters,"  I  fear  lest 
the  blight  of  apostacyj  if  it  has  not  already  fallen  on  this  cradle  and 
nursery  of  the  reformation,  may  rapidly  mature  the  guilt  which  will 
subject  Geneva,  with  other  parts  of  Europe,  to  the  rebuke  of  an  in- 
censed Providence. 

Our  ride  from  Geneva  to  Qiamberry  was  chiefly  in  the  night.     We 


2U  *  NOTES  OF  FOBBiaN  TRATiCL. 


'•-*%»-        • 


left  the  former  place  at  9.80,  P.  M.,  and  faaviug  engaged  seats  in  the 
coupee  of  the  diligence,  rode  comfortablj,  and  sL^t  during  a  iBrgp 
part  of  the  night.  About  midnight  we  were  roused  from  our  slum- 
bers and  required  to  dismount  On  doing  so,  we  found  ourselves, 
Korses,  diligence,  postillions,  oondttcteur,  and  ail,  ^nit  up  in  a  lai^ 
closely,  covered  building,  with  great  doors,  like  a  bam,  fast  olosed. 
We  had  previously  been  stopped,  in  passing  from  one  canton  to  an- 
other^ and  our  passports,  which  had  been  vizeed  at  Geneva,  demanded 
and  inspected  by  an  officer,  while  the  diligence  tarried.  But  now  we 
were  passing  from  Switzerland  to  Savoy,  and  not  otily  must  our  pass- 
ports, but  our  baggage  be  examined,  and  the  diligence  itself  ransacked 
from  top  to  bottom;  1  promptly  opened  my  portmanteau,  or  light 
leather  trunk,  which  are  commonly  used  for  traveling  purposes  in 
Europe,  and  my  sac  d9nuit^  when  required  to  do  so.  Whereupon  I 
was  asked  to  declare  whether  there  were  anything  in  them  contrary  to 
law.  I  replied,  "  Je  ne  connois  pas — examinez  vous,"  when  the  grave 
official,  looking  over  his  deputy,  saw  him  lift  up  one  article  on  top, 
turn  up  one  or  two  at  each  end,  and  inspecting  about  half  the  contents, 
expressed  himself  satisfied.  On  opening  the  »a€  de  nuit  and  looking 
iti,  he  smilingly  remarked  "  necessairea,"  as  he  looked  at  me^  and 
passed  away. 

In  passing  from  Dijon  to  Geneva,  our  passpoits  had  been  examined 
twice ;  but  our  baggage  was  not  molested,  nor  were  our  passports  in- 
quired for  by  any  official  when  we  arrived  at  the  latter  place  or  left  it; 
only  they  were  taken  at  the  bureau  of  our  hotel,  to  be  exhibited  to  the 
authorities,  and  preserv^ed  for  the  necessary  visees,  the  procuring  of 
which  forms  a  perquisite  to  the  commissaire  of  the  establishment,  as 
he  is  called. 

We  arrived  early  in  the  morning  at  Chamberry,  the  capital  of 
Savoy,  containing  a  population  of  19,000.  Although  we  had  tak^i 
our  seats  direct  for  Turin ;  yet,,  as  the  diligence  from  Geneva  only 
connects  with  that  from  Lyons  to  Turin,  we  had  to  remain  during  the 
day,  the  passages  having  all  been  previously  secured.  It  gave  us  an 
opportunity  to  look  around  this  antiquated  looking  place,  and  visit 
the  fountain,  and  its  churches,  the  principal  objects  of  interest  The 
device  of  the  former  is  that  of  four  huge  el^hants,  sculptured  out  of 
stone,  the  watei;  issuing  from  their  snouts,  into  a  basin  at  their  feet. 
The  churches  presented  nothing  to  our  view  deserving  of  notice.  The 
town  is  surrounded  with  mountains,  and  has  a  castle  seated  on  an  em- 
inence. Arcades,,  or  piaozas,  under  many  of  the  houses,  afibrd  protliBc- 
tion  from  the  weather,  to  persons  walking.  The  pakfeoe  of  the  ZHike 
ooenpies  the  centre  of  the  town* 


JOURNEY  FROM  CH  AMBER Y  TO  TURIN.  246 


We  leil  Chamberry  in  the  evening  at  haH-past  9,  and  had  two 
nights  of  U'avel  before  we  reached  Turin.  Toward  the  close  df  the 
first  afteiTioon,  we  began  the  ascent  of  Mount  Cenis,  after  having 
dined  at  a  little  town  at  its  base.  I  had  previously  attempted,  after 
the  example  of  the  passengei*s  genarallj,  to  ti^e  a  short  walk  over  an 
ascending  way,  up  one  of  the  lower  mountiun  ridges,  to  await  the  dil- 
igence that  had  to  pass  by  the  circuit  of  the  road,  a  long  distance 
round.  It  had  nearly  proved  too  much  for  me.  My  breath  soon  be- 
came exhausted,  and  I  had  frequently  to  sit  down  panting,  beside  suff- 
ering severely  in  other  respects.  But  for  the  support  of  the  arm,  and 
the  help  of  my  fellow  traveler,  Mr.  W.,  1  should  not  have  reached 
the  point  in  time,  and  been  left  by  the  diligenoe,  unless  the  conducteur, 
who  rides  along,  and  takes  charge  of  the  locomotive  part  as  of  other 
of  the  baggage,  had  gone  baek  in  pursuit  of  so  much  of  his  straying 
cargo.  This  personage  is  a  man  of  authority,  having  control  of  the 
driTers,  paying  tolls  and  other  charges,  and  taking  care  of  all  the 
passengers  and  baggage.  From  Chamberry  we  had  to  ride  in  the 
same  apartment  with  him,  the  banquette,  not  being  able  to  obtain  a 
seat  in  the  coupee,  the  interior,  or  derriere.  lie  was  very  attentive  and 
agreeable,  excepting  his  frequent  smoking,  and  occasional  liberal  use 
of  onions. 

Soon  after  we  had  dined,  about  3  1-2  P.  M.,  the  thick  fogs  I  had 
noticed  for  sometime  settling  on  the  top  of  the  mountain,  for  an 
hour  previously,  began  to  desoend,  a  sure  token  of  coming  rain,  as  I 
had  often  observed  in  the  mountainous  regions  of  Pennsylvania.  Pre- 
sently they  rolled,  rapidly,  down  the  sides  of  Mount  Cenis,  aad 
directly  thereafter  it  began  to  rain.  However  uncomfortable  to  us  as 
travelers,  I  was  delighted  with  the  exhibition  I  had  here,  of  tiie  same 
natural  laws  I  had  observed  on  our  own  continent.  The  relative 
changes  of  temperature,  and  the  degree  of  moisture  in  the  atmosphere, 
regulated  these  phenomena.  As  we  ascended  the  steep  sides  of  this 
mountain  pass,  it  grew  gradually  colder  and  colder.  The  rain  became 
mingled  with  flakes  of  snow ;  soon  the  moisture  was  all  converted 
into  snow,  and  before  we  reached  the  summit  of  the  rtdge  over  which 
the  road  passes,  some  6775  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  for 
two  or  three  hours  of  corresponding  time  on  the  descending  side,  we 
were  involved  in  a  fierce  winter  storm,  the  wind  blowing  tempestu- 
ously, and  everything  freezing  hard  around.  Protected  in  the  dili- 
gence, I  did  not  suffer  from  the  cold  as  much  as  I  had  feared  I  should. 
The  drivers  lashed  their  horses,  and  added  their  own  wild  yells  ooo*- 
sionally  to  the  howUngs  of  the  tempest,  while,  in  the  ascending  gradiM 
and  on  the  summit,  the  lumbering  vehicle  dragged  its  heavy  leqg^. 


246  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL 


slowly,  through  the  driving  snow.  I  observed  that  stone  buildings 
and  enolosures,  were  constructed  at  different  points,  and  at  no  great 
distance,  along  the  road,  where  travelers  and  their  horses  may  find 
shelter  from  the  tempest,  when  it  becomes  too  furious,  and  where, 
with  the  help  of  fire  and  provisions,  they  may  refresh  themselves. 
I  saw  and  felt  enough  to  know  how  necessary  and  important  are  such 
arrangements,  for  the  preservation  of  the  life  of  man  and  beast,  in 
these  elevated  and  almost  Arctic  regions. 

By  the  time  we  reached  Susa,  at  the  foot  of  the  eastern  side  of  the 
mountain,  the  temperature  was  changed  ;  but  it  rt«ined  heavily,  and 
continued,  at  intei-vals,  till  we  arrived  at  Turin,  about  5  o'clock  A. 
M.,  and  how  long  afterward  I  know  not;  for,  finding  comfortable 
quarters  in  the  Hotel  Feder,  we  sought  immediate  repose,  and  cared 
not  to  arrest  our  slumbers  till  the  sun  had  passed  the  meridian.  It 
was  light  before  we  lefl,  and  we  tarried  long  enough  at  Susa  to  dis- 
mount and  look  around,  notwithstanding  the  rain.  It  is  an  antiquated 
town,  the  ancient  Segusio  of  the  Romans,  and  is  surrounded  with  tine 
scenery.  A  mountain  torrent  rushes  by  its  side,  and  a  famous  old 
arch,  said  to  date  some  years  before  the  Christian  era,  and  dedicated 
to  Ceesar  Augustus,  spans  the  city  gate,  retaining  some  inscriptions,  of 
which  the  followuig  remain  legible  :  "  Imp.  Cesari  Augusto  Divi 
F.  PoNTiFici  Maximo  Tribunic  Potkstate  XX.     Imp.  XIII." 

Although  the  road  passes  over  the  top  of  the  Alpine  ridge,  yet  are 
there  peaks  towering  high  above  it.  Immediately  above  this  ancient 
town  rises  Monte  di  lloccia  Melone,  some  11,000  feet  in  height,  on  the 
summit  of  which  there  is  a  chapel,  erected  by  a  crusader,  in  fulfill- 
ment of  a  vow  he  had  made,  on  condition  of  h^s  escaping  from  the 
Mahometans,  by  whom  he  had  been  taken  prisoner.  The  chapel  was 
dedicated,  as  vowed,  to  the  Virgin,  and,  as  I  learned,  contains,  as  its 
holy  relic,  and  chief  object  of  attraction,  the  fetters  that  bound  the 
limbs  of  Bonifacio  di  Asta,  the  crusader,  to  honor  which,  a  company  of. 
poor  idolatrous  pilgrims,  equipped  and  furnished  with  piked  stavesjfonn 
an  annual  procession,  and  make  the  ascent  on  the  25th  of  August,  "  the 
feast  of  the  assumption."  The  evidence  and  accounts  I  get  of  this  Ro- 
manistic  idolatry,  multiply  continually  as  I  advance,  and  affect  me 
deeply.  As  we  approached  Turin,  from  the  small  town  of  Rivoli,  we 
passed  through  a  long  avenue  of  some  six  miles  in  length,  lined  with 
pollard  elms,  giving  a  fine  appearance  to  the  road.  It  was  at  this 
small  town  that  Vittori  Amedeo  II.,  in  1732,  was  imprisoned,  for  the 
short  period  before  his  death,  that  elapsed  from  the  time  he  attempted, 
after  his  abdication,  to  recover  his  throne.  Short  is  the  passage  of 
royalty  from  the  throne  to  the  grave. 


\- 


ATTENDING  CHURCH,       '  247 


Tlie  rain  continued  at  intervals  through  the  day,  and  I  found  oppor- 
tunity only  to  call  on  our  worthy  Charge  d'Affeirs,  the  Hon.  W.  B. 
Kinney,  by  whom  I  have  been  very  cordially  received  and  welcomed 
in  Sardinia. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Viaii  io  La  Tour — 77^«  Vaudois,  <kc. 

Skpt.  26th.  Sabbath. — ^This  day  I  attended  public  worship  with 
Mr.  Kinney  our  Charge  d'  Affaires,  and  Dr.  H.,  whom  I  have  met 
here.  The  service  was  in  the  Vaudois  Church,  in  the  French  lan- 
guage, conducted  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bert,  a  Vaudois  minister.  I  could 
understand  enough,  to  know  that  it  was  decidedly  evangelica).  The 
views  I  had,  previous  to  my  visit  to  Sardinia,  of  the  peculiar  and 
perilous  condition  af  its  government,  have  been  confirmed.  It  is  the 
only  one,  at  this  time,  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  which  has  a  con- 
stitution and  cultivates  the  spirit  of  liberty.  The  situation  of  the 
Vaudois  Church,  lying  in  thi!s  Kingdom,  is  peculiarly  interesting,  and 
through  it  at  this  time,  there  seems  to  be  a  channel  for  the  extension 
of  the  gospel  in  northern  Italy.  The  king  of  Sardinia  is  a  soldier, 
zealous  for  reform,  determined  to  perish  on  the  field  of  battle,  rather 
than  yield  to  foreign  interference.  Vittori  Emanuele  has  the  hearts 
of  the  people  generally,  as  well  as  of  the  soldiers.  He  has  a  parlia- 
ment, consisting  of  a  house  of  deputies  chosen  by  l^e  communes, 
and  a  senate  of  nobles,  appointed  by  himself.  They  are  seeking 
gradual  reform,  wisely  and  safely  attempted,  but  dreading  anything 
that  might  produce  a  disturbance,  or  afford  a  pretext,  for  foreign  des« 
potic  powers  to  interfere.  The  government  of  the  United  States  is 
anxiously  contemplated  by  them.  That  of  England  is  more  espe- 
dally  copied.  While  religious  liberty  is  conceded,  the  constitution 
recognizes  the  Roman  Catholic  as  the  established  religion  of  the  State. 
The  king  and  his  nobles  are  Roman  Catholics.  Protestants  are  un* 
known,  and  the  name  is  abhorred,  but  the  Vaudois,  who  have  ever 
been  in  the  country,  and  trace  their  faith  back  through  the  Paul!- 
oians,  even  to  the  apostolic  age,  are  evangelical,  ecclesiastically  inde- 
pendent of  the  State,  tolerated  by  the  government,  an^  recovering 
from  their  long  oppressions.  They  are  generally  poor ;  but  they  are 
building  a  large  church  in  this  city,  and  have  organized  a  university  at 
La  Tour,  for  the  education  of  their  young  men  and  ministers.  The 
way  is  open  for  their  missionary  action  in  preaching  the  gospel.     In 


248  •     NOTBS  OP  FORBIGN  TRAVEL. 


different  parts  of  the  kingdom,  I  learn,  that  inquiry  is  awake ;  whole 
families  are  beginning  to  stndj  the  aacred  scriptures,  and  to  prepare 
for  withdrawing  from  Popery.  The  American  Charge  d'  Affiujes 
receives  frequent  communications  on  the  subject,  and  has  his  heart 
deeply  interested  in  all  that  relates  to  their  wel&re.  The  population 
of  this  city,  has  increased  some  20,000  within  a  year  or  two.  Nu- 
merous buildings  are  going  forward  for  their  accommodation.  Poli- 
tical refugees,  many  of  them  of  wealth,  have  sought  an  asylum  here. 
It  is  estimated  that  some  300,000  have,  since  the  recent  revolutions, 
entered  the  kingdom.  The  old  nobility  and  votaries  of  absolute  rule 
are  opposed  to  the  government ;  because  it  is  constitutional  and  an 
innovation.  The  Red  Republicans  are  also  opposed  to  it,  because  it 
is  monardiical,  though  limited.  The  great  body  of  the  Priesthood, 
60,000  in  number,  take  part  with  the  reaetionaires,  sympathizing  with 
Rome,  and  would  gladly  see  the  ancient  state  of  things  restored. 
The  design  of  General  Kossuth  last  year  was  to  land  here,  and  not  go 
to  the  United  States  or  Great  Britain.  His  landing  would  have  been 
the  signal  for  a  rising,  on  the  part  of  the  republican  party  opposed  to 
Austria.  The  latter  knew  it,  and  had  her  army  of  90,000  on  tiie 
borders  of  Tuscany,  ready  to  march,  at  once,  into  Sardinia,  on  tiie 
least  pretext  for  it.  The  constitutional  government  is  obnoxious  to 
the  despotic  sovereigns,  and  such  a  pretext  would  '  have  been  gladly 
seized,  for  the  purpose  of  overturning  it,  and  of  restoring  absolute 
despotism.  The  government  were  acquainted  with  Kossuth's  plans, 
and  were  aware  of  Austria's  determination.  Hie  perplexity  of  the 
Sardinian,  government,  in  the  emergency,  was  very  great.  Our 
American  frigate  destined  to  convey  Kossuth  to  the  United  States, 
had  a  right  to  enter,  and  take  in  stores,  in  a  Sardinian  port.  She 
was  expected  to  do  so,  and  Kossuth  was  awaiting  her  arrival  at 
Spezzio  for  that  purpose,  in  the  belief,  that,  immediately  on  his  going 
ashore  there  Uie  populace  would  rise,  and  the  war  recommence,  out  of 
which  he  hoped  would  grow  the  possibility  of  his  return  to  Himgary, 
and  the  deliverance  of  his  country.  The  influence  of  our  Charge 
d'  Affidres  was  well  and  wisely  exerted  for  the  honor  and  credit  of 
the  government  of  the  United  States,  the  preservation  of  peace,  and 
the  prevention  of  the  havoc  that  would  follow.  The  vessel,  aeeord- 
ingly,  did  not  touch  at  a  Sardinian  port ;  but  sailed  for  Marseille. 
Thus  the  danger  was  avoided,  and  for  a  year  longer,  the  constituticMud 
government  has  existed,  and  gained  strength.  This  statement  of 
(ireneral  Kossuth's  hopes,  made  to  me  here,  corresponds  with  the  ex- 
pectations and  hopes  of  Kossuth  as  expressed  to  me  by  Colonel 
Henningson,  his  private  secretary,  who  visited  me  in  Detroit  about 


THE  KING'S  CHAPEL.  149 


^  i< 


the  Ist  of  May  lust,  to  acknowledge  for  General  K.  the  receipt  of  my 
letter  fco  him,  and  who,  in  his  anxiety  to  convince  me  of  there  being 
luore  ground  of  hope  for  Hungary  than  I  had  expressed  in  that  letter 
whidi  1  had  addressed  to  him  last  winter  while  at  Cincinnatiy-r-said, 
upcm  my  asking  where  would  General  Kossuth  find  a  spot  in  all  oon- 
titiental  Europe  to  land,  whence  he  might  expect  to  enter  Hungary, 
^*  Sardinia  is  the  place,  and  already  60,000  stand  of  arms  are  prepared 
in  it  lor  effeotiTe  use,  when  the  time  comes." 

27th.  Visited  the  Museum  of  Egyptian  Antiquities  to-day,  and 
those  of  Natural  History,  Mineralogy,  and  Comparative  Anatomy,— 
admirable  facilities  for  directing  and  aiding  a  young  man  or  student  in 
these  studies. 

29th.  1  had  intended  to  have  visited  La  Tour  yesterday,  to  leam 
more  about  the  Vaudois,  but  the  weatiier  has  been  rainy.  Having 
suffered  somewhat  from  encountering  cold  weather  on  the  Alps,  I 
ventured  not  abroad,  but  passed  the  time  in  writing  letters. 

Oct.  2d.  The  weather  cleared  up  on  Wednesday  ev^iing.  I 
spent  the  morning  of  Thursday  in  visiting  the  galleries  of  paintings 
in  the  palace  in  the  Piaeza,  the  chapel  of  the  king,  and  the  temple 
adjoining. 

The  King's  Chapel  is  quite  a  splendid  affair,  raised  up  v^ry  high  on 
one  of  the  uppei*  stories  of  the  palace.  It  is  circular,  with  an  altar  in 
the  centre,  on  the  one  side  of  which  are  large  glass  windows  that  can 
be  raised,  and  thus  he  brought  in  connection  with  t^e  chapel  whose 
principal  altar  stands  immediately  below.  The  vulgar  gaze  from,  the 
lower  chapel  may  penetrate  into  the  presence  of  royalty,  but  can 
discern  but  little.  I  was  told  that  the  chapel  was  but  seldom  uaed« 
The  king  resides  in  the  country,  some  four  or  five  miles  up  the  Po, 
both  in  summer  and  winter.  He  is  said  to  be  a  very  eariy  riser,— 
is  up  himself  at  4  A.  M.  every  morning,  and  often  reviews  his  troops 
at  6.  His  queen  *  is  very  domestic,  and  devotes  herself  entirely  to 
the  care  of  her  children,  of  which  she  has  six.  Tlie  Cathedral  or 
Duomo  is  the  oldest  sacred  edifice  in  Turin,  founded  by  Aigulph, 
king  of  the  Lombards,  A.  D.  602,  but  the  present  building  was  begun 
in  1498,  and  consecrated  in  1505.  It  contains  a  few  sepulchral  monu- 
ments, and  among  them,  that  of  Claude  Scyssel.  The  high  altar,  by 
th^  side  of  which  is  the  tribune  or  gallery  for  the  royal  family,  la 
omamanted  by  a  splendid  display  of  silver  candlesticks  and  other 
plate.  Hie  sacristy  contains  several  magnificent  crosses,  vasts, 
shrines,  relics,  and  a  large  statue  of  the  Virgin  crowned  and  standing 
nnder  a  silver  and  gilt  canopy.  On  the  8th  of  Sept.  the  festival  of 
the  nativity  of  the  Virgin,  there  is  a  great  and  solemn  procession  had 


950  NOTES  OF  FOREI&N  TRAVRt.. 

—  ■         1^  ..  ■  ■■  ... 

Ill     ■  ■  '  — ^___.^_^_ 

in  her  honor,  and  in  commemoration  of  the  deiiveranoo  of  the  dty 
from  the  Frendi,  in  1706,  when  Vittorio  Arraedia,  assisted  by  the 
Imperial  and  Prussian  troops,  under  Prinoe  Eugene,  Field  Marshall 
Daun,  who  occupied  Turin,  and  the  Prince  of  Anhalt,  gained  a  com- 
plete and  decisive  victory, — ^the  French  losing  153  pieces  of  cannon 
and  60  mortars,  which  proved  the  salvation  of  the  house  of  Savoy, 
whose  destruction  was  sought  by  Louis  XIV.  It  takes  16  men  to 
bear  the  weight  of  this  image  and  its  rigging,  which  is  borne  along 
amid  the  sound  of  bells  ringing,  and  chaunts  of  the  litany,  interchang- 
ing with  martial  music,  and  the  roar  of  canon  from  the  citadel.  A 
like  procession  takes  place  on  St.  John's  Day,  when  they  pretend  to 
carry  his  relics,  during  which  flowers  and  citrons  are  presented  to  the 
Archbishop  and  Canons.  In  the  Santo  Sudario,  the  high  chapel,  they 
pretend  is  one  of  the  folds  of  the  shroud  in  which  our  Lord  was 
wrapped  by  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  from  which  this  chapel  takes  its 
name,  and  on  which  they  t«ll  you  an  impression  was  made  by  his 
body-— other  folds  being  left  at  Rome.  Beaanwn  Cadouin  in  Peri- 
gord.  This  relic  was  not  known  till  the  time  of  the  crusades,  and 
was  first  placed  at  Chamberry,  where  it  was  invoked  by  Francis  I, 
previously  to  battle  and  afterward  worshipped  by  him,  having  trav- 
eled '  on  foot  from  Lyons  for  that  purpose,  f n  the  chapel  of  San 
Lorenzo  they  pretend  is  the  real  body  of  Saint  John. 

Among  the  numerous  paintings  of  the  old  artists,  in  the  royal 
palace,  6ec.,  I  noticed  a  Venus  of  Titian,  the  finest  piece  of  mere  paint- 
ing I  think  I  ever  saw, — being  evidently  an  attempt  to  realize  in  the 
auburn  or  yellow  color  of  the  hair  and  other  respects.  Homer's 
description. 

Dr.  H.  and  myself  started  at  half  past  two,  in  a  diligence,  to  visit 
the  capitol  of  the  Waldenses.  Mr.  W.  preferred  to  remain.  Having 
reached  Pinorolo  about  6  1-2  P.  M.,  we  unexpectedly  found  there 
was  no  stage  going  that  evening,  to  La  Tour.  We  therefore  took  a 
voiture  for  six  francs.  Our  vetturino  was  zealous  and  faithftil,  but  he 
had  a  most  provoking  and  imperturbable  sort  of  a  horse  to  deal  with. 
The  animal  looked  well  enough,  and  seemed  to  trot  off  at  first  with  a 
regular  five  mile  per  hour  gate,  but  not  capable  of  being  excited  or 
pushed  in  any  way  beyond  it.  After  we  had  got  some  four  or  five 
miles  on  our  journey,  as  the  grade  began  to  ascend,  he  suddenly 
made  a  dead  halt,  and  was  for  turning  as  suddenly  around,  on  an  ele- 
vated causeway,  thus  endangering  the  overthrow  of  the  vehicle.  I 
was  for  jumping  out,  but  codice  would  not  hear  of  it,  and  instantly 
jumping  and  rushKig  from  his  place,  seized  the  bridle  and  thrashed 
the  poor  beast  most  unmercifully,  while  he  ran  along  side  of  him. 


ARRIVAL  AT  LA  TOUR.  261 

This  operation  was  frequently  repeated  by  him,  until,  as  the  road  be- 
gan to  ascend  still  more,  and  the  horse  to  be  more  disposed  to  baulk, 
he  would  swear  by  the  Madonna,  and  La  Mere  de  Dieu,  and  sacre 
sacrament,  at  the  poor  creature  in  the  most  intemperate  manner, 
knocking  it  about  the  head,  with  the  butt  end  of  his  whip,  till  I 
thought  he  would  fell  it  to  the  ground.  We  could  not  talk  to  him, 
his  language  being  Italian,  and  had  even  t^  endure  it,  occasionaUy,  for 
relief,  however,  getting  out  and  walking,  while  he  would  be  belabour- 
ing the  animal.  At  last,  however,  after  2  3^  hours,  we  reached  La 
Tour  just  about  10  o'clock,  P.  M.,  and  havinfr  partaken  of  a  good- 
meal,  retired  to  comfortaMo  beds  and  slept  wvll.  I  observed,  as  we 
journeyed,  that  the  snow  lay  along  the  top  of  the  Alps  far  as  we 
could  see.  The  afternoon  being  clear,  and  the  sun  descending,  we  had 
very  admirable  views  of  the  ever  changing  phases  of  the  mountains 
while  we  traveled  towards  them,  during  light. 

The  particular  region  where  the  Vaudois  dwell,  is  situated  about  27 
miles  from  Turin,  amid  the  rocky  cliffs  and  mountain  gorges  of 
several  distinct  valleys  or  ravines  among  the  spurs  of  the  rugged 
Alps.  Tlie  road  to  it  from  Turin,  parses  along  the  beautiful  valley 
of  the  Po,  which  receives  the  numerous  torrents  rushing  from  the 
mountain  sides,  some  of  whose  tops  are  covered  all  the  year  with 
snow  and  ice.  Mount  Cenis  on  the  right  hand,  and  Mount  Yiso  more 
remote,  tower  in  their  grandeur  attracting  the  eye  of  the  wandering 
traveler. 

Wine  and  silk  form  the  chief  staples  of  the  region  inhabited  by 
the  more  wealthy  population  of  the  plains,  who  are  universally  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  religion.  Extensive  vine  yards  and  rows  of  mul- 
berry trees  appeared  on  either  hand  as  we  pursued  our  journey, 
stretching  as  far  up  the  mountain  as  soil  could  be  procured  and  ter- 
races constructed.  The  dwellings  and  improvements  often  present 
the  appearance  of  ease  and  luxury  which  arc  attendant  on  wealth. 

The  Vaudois  are  a  poorer  class  of  people ;  and  although  they  culti- 
vate, to  some  extent,  the  grape  and  mulberry  too,  yet  the  little 
patches  they  have  wrested  from  the  rocks  for  tillage,  afford  them  but 
limited  opportunity  for  more  than  to  meet  the  necessary  demands  for 
subsistence.  Their  food  is  of  the  plainest,  and  often  of  the  coarsest 
kind,  the  maron,  or  chestnut  tree, — whose  fruit,  by  the  way,  is  much 
larger  than  ours,  and  not  as  well  flavored, — furnishing  to  rikany  a  por- 
tion of  their  broad.  Here  and  there  a  small  patch  of  Indian  com  and 
some  vegetable  productions  aid  in  the  supply  for  their  wants  ;  but  it 
would  not  fail  to  excite  the  wonder  of  any  person  from  the  United 
States,  how  the  hardy  laborers  could  pos«bIy,  from  such  spots,  to  the 


26J  NOTES  OP  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


jeye  apparently  almost  inaocesmble,  prticure  sufficient  to  sustain  them- 
selves and  their  families.  Yet,  there  for  ages,  their  race  has  Ii%'ed  in 
poverty  and  piety  ;  and,  which  gives  to  their  history  its  ehief  interest, 
have  maintained,  in  their  purity,  the  great  essential  truths  of  the  gos- 
pel of  the  grace  of  Grod. 

One  of  their  past*irs,  Mr.  A.  Mona^tier,  has  written  and  recently 
published,  at  Geneva,  in  xhe  French  language,  a  history  compiled 
from  their  own  literature,  in  docum^its  and  manuscripts  preserved 
from  the  eleventh  century,  llieir  own  traditions  assign  their  origin 
to  a  date  previous  to  the  foiu-th  century,  and  their  distinct  separation 
from  the  church  of  Rome  to  the  days  of  Constantme  the  great,  and  to 
the  instrumentality  of  Leo,  "  cK)nfrere "  and  ootemporary  of  Sylves- 
ter, at  that  time  Bishop  of  ll<ime,  who  contended  against  the  doctrine 
then,  and  ever  since,  with  Romanists,  so  popular,  that  the  church 
should  be  heavily  endowed. 

As  fiir  back  as  the  records  of  history  go,  there  are  to  bo  found 
traces  of  a  people  in  the  north  of  Italy,  and  in  that  region,  vrho  re- 
ceived the  truths  of  evangelical  religion,  and  opposed  the  corruptions 
and  idolatry  of  po))ery.  Their  own  literature  is  in  a  dialect  of  the 
Romane  language,  resembling  the  Patoit.  It  affords  internal  evidence 
of  their  attachment  to  the  truth,  and  their  zeal  against  tJie  errors  of 
popery,  which,  as  far  bade  as  the  eleventh  century,  they  style  "  the 
rebel  and  consummate  sinner  Anti-Christ." 

They  take  the  name  of  Vaudois,  from  the  valleys  they  inhabit 
No  trace  exists  of  their  ever  having  )>een  connected  with  or  owned 
the  Roman  church,  from  the  period  of  the  apostacy  in  the  fourth  cen- 
tury, when  under  the  Emperor  Constantine  Diocesan  Episcopacy,  so 
diflferent  from  Parochial  Episcopacy,  or  Presbyterianism,  as  we  call 
it,  triumphed,  and  was  established  by  the  arm  of  the  secular  autho- 
rity,— ^the  parish  being  expanded  into  a  province,  and  taking,  among 
the  Greeks,  the  name  of  Diocese,  from  the  old  Pagan  usages. 

From  the  very  days  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  down  to  the  conversion 
of  Constantine,  an  Armenian,  who,  about  the  middle  of  the  seventh 
century,  became  the  founder  of  the  ancient  sect  of  Paulicians,  there 
are  traces  of  those  who  styled  themselves  disciples  of  St.  Paul,  and 
expressed  particular  attachment  to  the  great  evangelical  doctrines  of 
justification  by  faith  through  the  atonement  of  Jesus  CSirist,  as  set 
forth  by  that  apostle.  They  have  been  grossly  reviled  by  their  sue- 
mies ;  but  Mr.  Elliott  the  author  of  a  treatise  on  the  Apooalypse, 
has,  iu  that  worlc,  defended  successfully,  their  fiuth  and  their  fiune,  and 
traced  down  the  history  of  the  migrations  of  thesse  ancient  Paulikians, 
and  their  proselytes  in  Western  Europe,  to  the  time  of  Peims  Val- 


LA  TOUR.— ITS-  RRWaiOK.  253 


densis,  in  the  twelfth  century,  showuig  their  opposition,  to  all  the  dis- 
tinctive tenets  of  apostacy  into  ritual  superstition,  to  the  adoration  of 
images,  and  indeed,  to  "'  the  whole  doctrine  and  discipline  of  the 
Romish  church/'  They  transmitted  the  line  of  evangelical  truth 
through  the  dark  ages,  which,  like  beacon  lights,  kindled  and  blazed  so 
brilliantly  on  the  mountains  of*  Piedmont,  giving  name  to  their  once 
principal  city,  Lucerne.  It  is  a  fact  indisputably  established,  that  in 
Bohemia,  Switzerland,  and  France  there  are  traces  of  ike  light  thence 
derived  long  anterior  to  the  reformation  that  began  with  Luther.  I 
examined  their  religious  books  and  their  views  of  doctrine,  worship, 
and  religious  ordinances,  and  found  them  evangelical* — of  the  same 
faith,  and  ecclesiastical  polity  with  ourselves,  The  government  of 
the  churches  of  the  Vaudois  is  Presbyterian.  They  have  presbyters 
chosen  for  life  or  good  behavior,  whose  duty  is  like  our  own  ruling 
elders,  in  co-operation  with  the  pastor  or  parish  bishop  to  administer 
discipline,  visit  the  sick  and  counsel  the  afflicted.  Their  deacons,  also, 
like  our  own,  have  charge  of  the  poor.  They  educate  their  children 
carefully  and  religiously,  practice,  infant  baptism,  by  aspersion,  or 
by  pouring  water  on  the  head,  never  by  immersion,  and  are  very 
strict  in  the  promises  they  take  from  parents  as  to  their  maintaining 
a  religious  life  before  them,  and  instructing  them  in  the  faith  and  pre- 
cepts of  the  gospel. 

Hie  children  are  carefully  catechized ;  the  Bible  is  universally 
read  and  studied  among  them,  copies  of  which  they  have,  in  a  trans- 
lation made  into  the  Romane  dialect,  before  the  days  of  the 
Reformation. 

I  enjoyed  exceedingly  my  visit  to  La  Tour.  Our  hotel  was  situ- 
ated near  the  market  stand.  In  front  of  it  a  guard  of  soldiers  was 
stationed,  and  the  people  seemed  to  have  gathered  there  at  an  early 
hour,  to  sell  their  butter,  cheese,  chickens,  vegetables,  fruits,  dec.  I 
was  amused  in  seeing  a  woman  leading  a  black  hog  to  market,  which 
she  did  by  dropping  a  piece  of  a  chesnut  every  now  and  then,  thus 
keeping  the  creature  on  her*  track  and  near  her.  Sh^  did  not,  how- 
ever, sell  it,  for  I  foimd  her  taking  it  back  after  a  couple  of  houi  s, 
but  with  less  trouble.  The  town  is  situated  around  the  base  of  a 
mountain  ridge  or  cliff,  that  terminates  on  its  upper  side,  and  is  the 
centre  one  of  three,  which  end  in  the  same  way,  and  form  deep  val- 
leys or  ravines  between  them,  down  which  rush  mountain  torrents  of 
pure  water,  supplied  from  springs  and  melting  snows.  The  principal 
stream  comes  down  the  valley  of  Luzerne  which  lies  to  the  south  west 
of  La  Tour.  On  the  rammit  of  t^ese  rough  spurs  of  the  mountains, 
rise  roAj  cliffs>and  emiaences ;  and  hi^ier  up'as  the  moimtains  tower 


264  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


over  these,  I  saw  the  snow  lying  in  the  goi^es  and  deep  gullies  among 
the  rocks.     All  around  the  village,  on  the  sloping  «ide8  of  the  moun- 
tains, are  to  be  seen  small  houses,  and  terraced  plots  of  ground, 
wherever  any  soil  could  be  redeemed,  or  obtained  for  cultivation. 
The  grape  vine  is  cultivated  extensively  all  along  the  sloping  plains  of 
the  mountain  spurs ;  and  far   up   also  on  their  almost  precipitous 
sides.     Rows  of  old  vines,  which  have  evidently  been  planted  for  a 
century  if  not  more,  are  to  be  seen  at  the  distance  of  from  20  to  30 
feet  apart,  and  some   10  to  15  feet  in  the  rows,  supported  by  poles 
converging  toward  the  root,  and  spreading  out  towards  the  top,  with 
thongs  and  rods*  fastened  together,  on  which  the  branches  are  trained. 
Between  the  rows  of  vines  are  often  seen  rows  of  mulberrv  trees, 
cultivated    for  the  purpose  of  rearing  the  silk- worm.     Occasionally 
the  vine  branches  are  stretched  across  from  row  to  row,  and  the 
grapes  to  be  seen  hanging  from  them  as  you  look  under  and  along  the 
vistas.     Acres  of  these,   old  vineyards,  U^gether  with  chatoaus  in  the 
midst  of  them,  were  to  be  seen  near  Pignorolo,  a  place   where  we 
stopped  for  a  short  season,  and  noticeable  to  me  because  of  its  being 
the  seat  and  centre  of  hostile  persecuting  measures  pursued  against 
the  Vaudois  at  different  times  by  the  Roman  Catholic  authorities  of 
Church  and  State  in v Sardinia:  also,  between  that  and  La  Tour.     I 
noticed,  however,  that  the  great  mass  of  the  grape  crop  had  been 
struck  with  mildew,  and  was  good  for  nothing.     This  I  learn  is  the 
fact,  the   present  y(?ar,  throughout  all  northern  Italy,  Savoy  and  the 
south  of  Frane(\     The  fiiilure  of  the  grape  crop  has  already  caused 
quite  an  alarm,  and  an  advance  in  the  price  of  wine.     We  had,  how- 
ever, some  very  line  branches  of  purple  grapes?  presented  to  us  by  a 
bey  above  La  Tour,  for  which  he  would  take  no  compensation.     They 
were  so  large  that  three  branches  were  as  much  as  Mr.  H.  and  myself 
could  cat.     The  houses  in  the  village  of  La  Tour,  like  all  small 
French  towns,  I  have  seen,  are  built  on  very  narrow  streets,  exceed- 
ingly irregular,  and  solid,  heavy,  thick  stone  walls.     Along  the  centre 
of  the  principaj  street  was  a  stream  of  Water,  whose  channel  is  paved. 
On  either  side  of  it  are  laid  slabs  of  flat  stone,  on  which  the  wheels 
of  wagons,  carts,  <&c.  pass,  while  the  horse  walks  in  the  water.    The 
people  were  exceedingly  polite, — man,  woman  and  child,  every  one 
we  met,  saluted  us  with  words  of  kindness, — and  the  hat,  in  token  of 
polite  respect  was  most  commonly  taken  wholly  off  from  the  heads 
of  the  men  as  we  passed.     After  breakfast  we  went  in  pursuit  of 
Professor   llevel,  to  whom  we  had  a  letter  of  introduction.     We 
found  him -at  the  plaoe  to  which  we  were  directed.     He  was  encaged 
with  his  class  at  the  time,  and  said,  that  in  an  hour  he  would  wait 


A  VISIT  TO  THK  COLLEGE.  356 

Upon  us.  In  the  mean  time  we  strolled  up  the  ravine,  observing  the 
scenery  and  vegetation,  and  enjoying  much,  the  wild  features  of  the 
landscape.  High  up  along  the  ravines,  we  saw  the  ragged  rocks  and 
caverns,  amid  which  the  poor  Vaudois  had  once  sought  an  asylum 
from  their  lloman  Catholic  persecutors.  We  learned  afterwards 
that  these  were  the  very  places,  where  the  dreadful  scenes  of  sufler-* 
ing  from  Catholic  ferocity,  of  which  1  had  long  since  read,  were 
enacted.  The  French  maron  or  ehesnut  trees,  we  saw  growing  in 
great  luxuriance  and  abundance  around  the  village.  The  burrs  had 
been  opened  by  the  early  frosts,  and  they  were  dropping  their  large 
fruit,  which  forms  a  very  important  article  of  provision  among  the 
Vaudois.  On  our  return  we  were  conducted  through  the  college,—* 
visiting  the  different  recitation  rooms  in  the  different  apartments,  in- 
ferior and  superior.  We  saw  the  students,  examined  their  writing, 
and,  as  far  as  we  could  in  French,  expressed  our  satisfaction.  Some 
80  students  are  at  this  time  in  attendance,  in  the  different  departmetSr 
In  the  winter  season  there  are  as  many  more.  The  college  has  been 
to  some  extent  endowed,  and  quite  literally  aided  by  General  Beck- 
with,  whos(\  portrait  is  exhibited  in  full  length  in  the  hotel  in  the 
college  library,  and  in  other  places,  the  kind  hearted  Englishman,  be- 
ing honored  an  the  benefactor  of  the  Vaudois.  We  noticed,  also, 
the  picture  of  Cliarles  Albert,  and  the  present  king,  Vittorio  £manu- 
ele.  The  students  were,  generally,  a  fine,  interesting  looking  set  of 
lads  and  young  men :  and  their  behavior  was  modest,  respectful  and 
easy,  afid  very  prepossessing ;  showing, — that  the  government  was 
good,  and  that,  through  the  natural  promptings  of  their  owii  minds, 
taught  to  respect  their  superiors  in  years,  and  not  by  fear  of  punish^ 
ment, — ^they  had  learned  to  restrain,  or  were  devoid  of,  that  salient 
curiosity,  impertinence  or  levity,  that  1  have  sometimes  witnessed  in 
ill  bred  youth,  and  gf  ill  governed  institutions,  when  visited,  during 
the  hours  of  instruction,  by  strangers.  Not  an  instance  occurred 
during  the  whole  period  of  our  visit,  of  tittering,  whispering,  laugh- 
ing, restless  fidgeting,  rising  up,  running  out  or  rude  behavior  among 
them ;  not  even  when  we  occasionally  blundered  out  our  bad  French, 
They  looked  on  with  deep  interest  and  serious  thoughtfulness,  when 
we  pointed  out  to  them,  on  the  maps  hanging  up  in  their  recitation 
rooms,  the  places  from  which  we  came.  It  was  amusing  to  see  how 
they  betrayed  surprise,  when  they  were  told  that  the  distance  between 
the  cities  from  which  we  came  exceeded  a  thousand  miles,  and  yet  the 
country  and  government  were  one.  Tliey  were  evidently  pleased 
with  our  visit,  and  with  the  expressions  of  interest  we  felt  in  them 
and  their  college ;  so  much  so,  that  many  of  them  came  up,  and  af- 


256  NOTES  OF  FOREION  TRAVKIi. 


feotionately  shook  hands  with  us,  when  we  took  our  leave  of  them. 
I  feh  delighted  and  thankfiil  to  God,  that  such  a  seminary  of  learning 
had  an  existence  there.  It  is  indeed  a  beacon  light  upon  the  moun- 
tains, and  well  sustains  and  justifies  the  name  Luzerne,  given  to  their 
prindpal  town,  and  the  motto  of  their  Waldensian  church,  *'  Lux  in 
tenebris^^^  light  in  darkness*  Blessed  light !  Long  has  it  flickered 
and  cast  the  precious  rays  of  evangelical  truth  amid  the  gross  dark- 
ness, that  covered  the  idolatrous  nations  around !  May  it  never  be 
extinguished ! 

The  students  in  the  Vaudois  College  are  religiously  educated,  M'hile 
conducted  in  the  pursuits  of  literature  and  science.  The  Bible  is  a 
college  text  book,  and  is  made  the  counsellor  and  guide  in  religious 
matters.  The  French  and  Italian  languages  are  both  taught,  and 
familiarly  spoken  by  the  students  in  recitations  and  intercourse.  The 
course  of  study  is  quite  liberal  and  extensive;  embracing  the 
sciences,  exact,  physical  and  moral ;  the  languages,  ancient  and  mod- 
em; the  Belles  Lettres,  and  philosophy, — and  in  the  inferior  depart- 
ment or  foims, — ^geography,  arithmetic,  mathematics,  and  modem 
languages,  reading,  writing,  6iQ.  The  Gymnasium  of  Germany, 
which  provides  for  the  studies  pursu^  among  us,  l^bth  in  the  prepara- 
tory grammar  school  or  academy,  and  iu  our  colleges,  together  with 
modem  languages,  is  the  model,  according  to  which  the  Vaudois  insti- 
tution is  organized.  The  youth  are  received  at  seven  and  eight  years 
of  age,  and,  during  a  course  of  eight  years  study,  passing  each  year 
to  a  higher  form,  they  accomplish  all,  and  more,  than  the  studies,  so 
loosely  and  desultorily  pursued,  often,  in  our  American  academies 
and  colleges ;  and  with  this  vastly  greater  advantage,  that  the  founda- 
tion being  well  laid,  and  being  subjected  to  a  uniform  system  of 
drilling  and  discipline,  they  are  made,  and  succeed  much  hettex,  in 
undertaking  to  become,  thorough  and  accurate  scholars.  The  studies 
of  each  lower  form  must  all  be  mastered  by  the  pupil,  before  he  is 
allowed  to  pass  into  the  higher. 

The  College  was  organized  m  18iJ7,  and  owes  its  prosperity  mainl^^, 
as  stated  above,  to  the  liberality  of  General  Beckwith,  an  English 
gentleman,  of  the  established  church  of  England,  who  has  been  deeply 
interested  in  the  Waldenses,  and  has  erected  here,  mokcjmkktum  (eks 
FKRENNIU8.  An  imperishable  monument  of  infinitely  greater  value 
than  all  the  gold  and  jewels  and  costly  treasures,  so  often  lavished  by 
the  rich  and  great  upon  mausoleums,  devoid  of  ail  utility,  and  des- 
tined to  moulder  and  decay  with  the  names,  memory  and  ashes  of 
their  proud  and  lofty  founders. 


LAKD  OF  THE  PYBAMIIM3.  Utt 


i-  " 
■;•  •  / 

BT  WARBXN  ISHAM.  ■    ^'in 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
A  Ramble  among  the  Tombs. 


;•  t 

•r:i 


After  all,  we  have  explored  only  the  portion  of  ancient  TTi^Hes 
which  was  tenanted  hy  the  living.  Let  us  now  turn  to  the  Necropo- 
lis, or  "  city  of  the  dead."  The  Lybian  mountain  chain, '  wMbh 
bounded  the  ancient  city  on  the  West,  is  all  hollowed  out  into  tonibs. 
For  miles  along  its  Eastern  ledge,  it  is  pierced  by  entrances  to  these 
sepulchral  chambers,  the  entire  mountain  being  thus  rendel^ed  well 
nigh  as  cellular  as  a  honey -comb.  '     ' 

A  superstitious  veneration  for  the  dead,  is  a  leading  charactJeHstic 
of  all  idolatrous  nations.  Hence  the  art  of  embalming ;  hence  iiie 
practice  of  cutting  out  tombs  in  the  solid  mountain  rock ;  and  hentse 
too,  that  crowning  device,  of  so  blinding  all  access  to  these  hidifig 
places  of  the  dead,  that  the  very  doors  which  lead  to  them,  cannbt'be 
distinguished  from  any  other  portion  of  the  ledge.  "    ' 

With  his  remains  thus  entombed  and  sealed  up,  the  poor'pagin 
flattered  himself,  that  all  would  be  well,  until  his  soul,  mellowed  and 
ripened  by  the  pains  and  penalties  of  a  series  of  transmig^atioris, 
should  come  groping  its  way  back  to  the  deserted  clay.  But,  whbt 
must  be  its  consternation,  on  its  return  to  claim  the  predons  deposit, 
to  find  it  scattered  in  fragments  "at  the  ffrave's  mouth,"  ort<i'leAtti, 
that  it^has  been  borne  as  a  spectacle  to  some  foreign  country  ?  But 
this  enormity  attaches  not  to  me.  Adventurous  footstep*  have  pre- 
ceded me  ;  and  rude  hands  had  prepared  the  way  before  me.   '     '   '■'* 

But  who  are  these,  "  coming  out  of  the  tombs  to  meet  us  V*  attfOtly 
crew !  They  reminded  me  strongly  of  those  who  issued  frdWi  sfMlldr 
receptacles  of  death,  upon  the  shores  of  the  sea  of  Galtflee,  in^'lfce 
time  of  the  Savior,  and,  if  they  were  not  like  them,  "  pk^wesSed'bf 
the  devil,"  their  dogs  certainly  seemed  to  be,  for  we  had  &ll*WiS'cdttld 
do  to  fight  our  way  through  them.  These  poor,  half  naked 'W^patftsftWte, 
pressed  around  us  with  fragments  of  mummies,  and  box^.'  cf^fitile 


168  I<ANP  OF  TUK  PY&AHID& 


sculptured  gods,  and  bits  of  coin  and  jewelry,  which  they  had  gath- 
ered in  groping  among  the  tombs  and  adjacent  ruins,  and  which  they 
were  eager  to  sell,  following  us  with  clamorous  importunity.  Many 
of  them  burrow  in  the  more  accessible  of  the  tombs,  and  are  as  dead 
to  the  common  sympathies  of  humanity,  as  the  mummies  they  have 
displaced.  I  was  more  than  once  startled  at  sight  of  them,  on  look- 
ing into  a  tomb. 

But,  while  I  lingered,  Achmet  was  skipping  from  rock  to  rock,  as 
impatient  of  delay,  as  a  steed  held  in  by  the  bit.  And  so,  girding  up 
my  loins,  I  followed  him  from  tomb  to  tomb,  up  and  down  precipi- 
ces, over  and -under  shelving  rocks,  and  through  tortuous  paissage- 
ways,  sometimes  erect,  and  sometimes'prone,  crawling  like  a  worm, 
until,  in  my  weariness,  1  was  very  glad  to  avail  myself  of  "  the  re- 
pose of  the  tomb  "  to  recruit  my  strength. 

Occasionally  a  tomb  was  easy  of  access,  the  eiitrancc»-way  leading 
directly  into  apartments ;  but  frequently  access  was  to  be  had  only 
through  a  low,  blind,  circuitous  passage  way,  difficult  to  traverse,  t^e 
entrance  to  which  seemed  as  likely  to  lead  to  a  den  of  wild  beasts,  as 
anything  else.  In  one  instance,  as  we  were  passing  along,  my  guide 
dropped  himself  down  and  disappeared  beneath  a  shelving  rode 
through  what  seemed  more  like  a  wolf-bole,  than  an  entrance  to  a 
tomb,  yelling  out  to  me  to  follow.  I  looked  in  after  hira — all  was 
dark.  I  heard  a  voice,  but  it  seamed  the  voice  of  the  sepulchre 
itself.  But  down  I  dropped,  and  crawled  in.  Far  ahead  I  saw  the 
light  of  a  candle,  and,  with,  the  aid  of  a  match,  I  lighted  mine,  holding 
it  in  one  hand  as  1  went  along,  not  upon  all-fours,  for  there  was  not 
height  enough  for  so  niiich  dignity,  but,  na  best  1  could,  like  a  reptile. 

Crawling  in  this  manner  several  rods,  we  arrived  at  a  place  where 
we  could  stand  upright,  and  before  ub  was  a  tomb,  say  twelve  feet 
wide  by  twenty  long,  and  seven  or  eight  feet  deep,  hewn  in  the  solid 
rock.  We  were  standing  upon  the  top  of  one  of  its  side  walls,  look- 
ing right  down  into  it,  the  fkK>r  being  seven  or  eight  feet  below  us, 
while  the  roof,  all  rock,  was  as  much  above  us. 

As  I  stood  wondering  how  we  should  get  into  it,  and,  when  once  in, 
how  we  should  get  out  again,  there  being  m^thing  to  aid  either  in- 
gress or  ejijT^s,  Achmet  laid  one  hand  upon  the  wall,  and  hopped 
down,  and  standing  dose  to  the  wall,  made  a  staircase  of  himself, 
down  which  I  offected  my  descent.  And  having  been  safely  landed  at 
the  bottom,  my  attention  was  at  once  attracted  to  the  pMntings  upon 
the  walls,  and  the  stories  they  told,  in  which  I  became  so  intensely 
interested,  that  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  began  to  think  how  we 
should  get  out.     At  length  the  time  came,  and,  as  I  looked  upon  the 


PAINTING  OF  THE  TOMBS.  269 


■smooth,  perpendicular  wall,  seven  or  eight  feet  high,  which  we  must 
olimb,  with  nothing  on  whiph  to  mount,  save  a  small  stone  a  few 
inches  high  at  the  bottom,  my  heart  fairly  misgave,  and  now  the 
.startling  thought  came  over  me  for  the  first  time,  that  I  w^as  there  in 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  alone  with  a  solitary  Arab,  who  might  rob 
and  murder  me,  with  a  pretty  fair  chance  of  escaping  detection. 

The -wall  was  higher  than  my  head,  perpendicularly  up,  and  smooth 
as  glass.  As  I  stood  surveying  it,  Achmet,  perceiving  my  embarrass- 
ment, laid  one  hand  upon  the  top  of  the  wall,  and,  standing  upon  a 
small  stone  at  the  bottom,  hopped  out,  and  reaching  down  his  hand, 
draped  me  ailer  him,  and  we  crawled  out  as  we  had  crawled  in. 

In  other  instances,  the  passage-way  into  the  mountain,  conducted  us 
into  suits  of  several  rooms  in  succession,  all  ornamented  with  paint- 
ings upon  the  walls,  as  fresh  and  vivid,  as  though  but  just  from  the 
brush  of  the  artist. 

These  paintings  have  a  historical  value,  which  nothing  can  supply, 
for  they  antedate  all  written  history,  and  fiirnish  the  only  authentic 
record  which  has  come  down  to  us,  of  the  manners  and  customs  of 
the  Ancient  Egyptians.  They  represent  the  favorite  occupations  and 
amusements  of  the  deceased  occupant,  and  exhibit  a  pretty  complete 
picture  of  his  domestic  life  and  manners. 

The  walls  are  covered  with  cement,  and  the  scenes  upon  them  are 
first  sculptured  in  low  relief,  and  then  painted,  sometimes  gilded. 
The  art  of  perspective,  however,  seems  to  have  been  unknown  in 
those  day^. 

Come  along  with  me,  and  let  us  survey  these  interesting  memorials 
of  a  most  wonderful  people,  concerning  whom  written  history  tells  us 
nothing.  Perhaps  the  first  thing  which  strikes  your  attention  is  a 
lady  playing  upon  a  harp.  This  is  a  very  common  representation. 
One  tomb  in  particular  is  so  distinguished  by  it,  that  it  is  culled  ^'the 
harp  tomb."  This  instrument  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  the 
harp  in  use  at  the  present  day,  and  is  doubtless  the  same  celebrated 
in  the  divine  rapsodies  of  the  *•  Sweet  Singer  of  Israel."  And  here 
sits  a  lady  with  a  flower  in  her  hand,  (the  lotus,  the  sacred  flower  of 
the  Egyptians,  resembling  somewhat  our  pond  lily)  and  before  her 
stands  the  gentleman  who  has  just  handed  it  to  her.  The  rufHe 
around  her  neck,  is  as  pure,  as  white,  as  perfect  and  as  beautiful  as 
though  k  had  but  just  received  its  last  touch.  And  those  females 
sear  by,  how  beautiful  their  hair  hangs  in  ringlets  all  around  their 
heads,  and,  with  their  arms  clasped,  each  around  the  other,  how 
affectionately  they  look  each  other  in  the  face.  And  further  along, 
you  see  a  sportsman  with  the  bow  Hrawn  at  the  game,  which  is 


260  LAND  OP  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


T 


scampering  away,  and  another  which  has  just  planted  an  arrow  in 
the  forehead  of  a  stag,  which  is  in  the  act  of  MHng.  Next  yon  see 
a  sailing  party,  just  pushing  off  from  the  shore.  And  diere  is  a  fim 
with  a  handle  four  or  five  feet  long,  evidently  intended  to  be  used  by 
a  servant. 

But  I  cannot  enlarge — suffice  it  to  say,  tliat  the  paintings  generally 
represent  the  every  day  life  of  the  fashionable  and  the  rich  of  a  luxu- 
rious and  wealthy  metropolis,  as  being,  in  all  essential  features,  like 
that  of  the  same  class  in  the  wealthy  commercial  cities  of  modem 
diristendom. 


CITAITER  XXVIII. 

Tojnbs  of  tJu  Kings. 
> 

The  portion  of  the  necropolis  we  have  already  explored,  seems  to 
have  been  appropriated  to  the  use  of  private  individuals.  The  "  tombs 
of  the  kings,"  so-called,  are  two  miles  away,  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
Lybian  mountains,  and  access  to  them  is  gained  only  through  a  wind- 
ing ravine,  or  mountain  gorge,  much  of  the  way  of  steep  and  difficult 
ascent,  over  the  crumbling  rock,  which  reflects  the  rays  of  the  sun 
with  overwhelming  intensity.  Never  before  did  I  come  so  near  being- 
melted  by  their  "  fervent  heat,"  and  that  on  a  January  day. 

Having  toiled  up  this  dismal  pass  a  distance  that  seemed  a  dozen 
miles,  though  in  fact  it  was  but  two,  there  opened  upon  my  view  a 
dreary  solitude,  in  the  form  of  an  arid,  leaflless  desert,  walled  up  by 
ledges — a  spot  that  seemed  consecrated  to  everlasting  silence. 

In  this  dreary  place,  to  which  no  human  footstep  would  ever  be 
likely  to  wander,  the  greatest  precaution  was  taken  so  to  close  the 
entrance  to  the  tombs,  that  no  human  eye  could  detect  it.  And  yet, 
it  was- here  that  Belzoni,  as  though  under  the  influence  of  some  mys- 
terious presentiment,  made  his  great  discovery.  Directing  his  steps 
to  thiis  solitude,  he  fixed  his  eye  upon  a  spot  high  up  the  ledge,  where 
there  seemed  to  be  traces  left  by  a  rushing  stream,  (though  there  is 
seldom  rain  enough  in  the  desert  to  make  one,  the  most  unlikely  qpot 
in  all  the  place  to  lead  to  discovery.  Setting  himself  to  his  task,  he 
soon  found  an  entrance,  through  which  he  walked  right  into  the  vaul- 
ted mountain,  which  is  composed  of  calcaneous  free  stone,  of  a  pnre 
white. 

First  we  Altered  a  splendid  hall  about  twenty-five  feet  square,  tiie 
roof  of  which  is  supported  by  pillars  four  feet  square,  and  out  of 
which  there  is  a  passage  way  into  another  hall  of  about  the  same  di- 


A  MOUNTAIN  CUT  JNTO  A  TOMB.         -  »       261 

mensions)  all  covered  with  figures  in  outline.  Descending  a  staircase 
seven  or  ei^ht  feet  in  width,  and  having  eighteen  steps,  we  entered  a 
corridor,  or  passage  way,  of  lai^e  dimensions,  and  splendidly  orna- 
mented with  sculpture  and  painting.  Traversing  its  length,  a  descent 
of  ten  steps  conducted  us  into  another  of  similar  dimensions  and 
finish,  opening  into  several  magnificent  apartments,  one  of  which  is 
about  twenty-five  feet  long  by  twelve  or  fourteen  in  width,  so  splen- 
didly ornamented  with  sculpture  and  painting,  representing  gods  and 
goddesses,  that  the  discoverer  denominated  it  '^  the  room  of  beauty. 
Then  follows  a  hall  neai*ly  thirty  feet  square,  with  two  rows  of  square 
pillars,  which  he  denominated  "  the  hall  of  pillars."  This  room  opens 
into  a  small  apartment  on  each  side,  beautifiilly  adorned.  What 
seems  the  principal  apartment  in  the  tomb,  is  reached  by  a  passage 
way  firom  the  end  of  the  hall,  and  is  over  thirty  feet  long,  and  but 
little  less  than  thirty  in  width,  having  an  arched  roof.  On  one  side 
of  it  is  an  apartment  in  an  unfinished  state,  and  on  the  other  a  room, 
say  twenty-five  feet  by  twenty,  with  two  square  pillars.  On  the  same 
side  is  still  another  apartment,  more  than  forty  feet  long,  and  near 
twenty  wide,  ornamented  with  columns. 

It  Was  in  the  centre  of  the  arched  room,  at  the  end  of  the  lower 
corridor,  that  a  sarcophagus  of  transparent  oriental  alabaster,  of  a 
much  finer  quality  than  any  ever  before  discovered,  was  found,  meas- 
uring nine  feet  and  a  half  in  length,  three  and  a  half  feet  in  width, 
and  two  inches  thick,  covered  with  hundreds  of  minute  sculpt^ired 
figures  within  and  without.  Its  position  was  directly  over  a  staircase 
in  the  centve  of  the  room,  which  leads  to  a  subterraneous  passage, 
three  hundred  feet  long,  that  seems  to  proceed  through  the  centre  of 
the  mountain,  furnishing  a  presumption  that  there  were  two  entrances 
to  tliis  tomb,  one  from  either  side  of  the  mountain. 

The  subjects  of  the  various  pictorial  representations  which  adorn 
the  chambers  of  this  structure,  arq  of  an  entirely  different  character 
from  those  of  which  I  have  spoken  as  embellishing  the  tombs  of  pri- 
vate individuals,  and  it  is  this  characteristic  difierence  which  stamps 
them  as  ^^  the  tombs  of  the  kings."  Here  the  principal  decorations 
oonsist  of  battle  scenes,  protecting  deities,  and  pompous  ceremonials. 
In  one  apartment  is  a  military  procession,  in  which  persons  of  three 
different  nations  have  been  pointed  out.  Jews  from  their  features  and 
complexion ;  Ethiopians,  fi*om  their  complexion  and  ornaments ;  and 
Persians,  firom  their  fiowing  robes.  If  this  be  true,  this  tomb  must 
have  been  constructed  after  a  successful  invasion  of  those  countries. 
Hie  names  of  Necho  ana  Psammis,  have,  moreover,  been  made  out 
from  inscriptions  in  one  of  the  chambers  of  this  tomb.      These  two 


262  LAND  OP  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


monarchs,  father  and  son,  reigned  some  six  hundred  years  before 
Christ,  the  former  being  the  conqueror  of  both  Jerusalem  j^nd  Baby- 
lon, and  the  latter  of  Ethiopia.  This  being  so,  the  date  of  the 
construction  of  this  tomb,  and  the  authors  of  it,  have;  with  somo^ 
plausibility,  been  made  out,  though,  it  must  be  confessed,  not  with 
full  assurance.  ' 

It  has  been  suggested  that  this  magnificent  structure  was  devoted  to 
other  purposes  than  that  of  a  sepulchre,  and  that  in  its  dark  recesses 
were  perpetrated  some  of  the  most  revolting  mysteries  of  idolatrous 
worship.  To  this  end  we  are  cited  to  the  words  of  the  prophet  Eze- 
kiel :  "  Then  said  he  unto  me,  son  of  man,  dig  now  in  die  wall ;  and 
when  I  had  digged  in  the  wall,  behold  a  door ;  and  he  said  unto  me, 
go  in  and  behold  the  wicked  abominations  that  they  do  tliere.  And 
so  I  went  in  and  saw,  and  behold  every  form  of  creeping  things,  and 
abominable  beasts,  and  all  the  idols  of  the  house  of  Israel  portrayed 
upon  the  wall  around  about." 

It  is  natural,  enough  that  the  Israelites  should  have  practised,  to- 
some  extent,  the  idolatries  of  the  masters  they  served  in  Egypt,  and 
though  this  tomb  was  constructed  afler  their  exodus,  there  were, 
doubtless,  others  devoted  to  the  same^  use,  of  a  much  earlier  date. 
That  this  was  consecrated  to  some,  extent,  to  the  mysteries  of  idol 
worship,  is  rendered  almost  certain  from  the  fact  that  Belzoni  found, 
in  one  of  the  apartments,  an  embalmed  bull,  and  in  others  a  great 
number  of  small  figures  of  wood,  and  some  of  fine  earth,  baked, 
colored  blue,  and  varnished,  evidently  idol  gods,  and  objects  of 
worship, 

I  will  simply  add  here  what  might  have  been  said  in  my  descrip- 
tion of  the  tombs  of  private  individuals^  that  in  several  of  these 
sepulchral  chambers,  the  following  scene,  laid  in  the  land  of  spirits, 
to  which  I  have  alluded  in  another  place,  is  portrayed.  Osiris,  the 
chief  gbd  of  the  Egyptians,  is  seated  upon  a  throne  of  judgment,  witfc 
Isis,  his  wife,  by  his  side.  An  inferior  god,  Horus,  conducts  a  soul 
into  his  presence,  while  Anubis  (the  jackal-headed  deity)  holds  the 
balance  in  which  its  good  and  bad  actions  are  being  weighed.  The 
god  Thoth,  is  also  there,  pen  in  hand,  to  record  the  result.  In  the 
distance  is  seen  a  golden  gate  guarded  by  Cerberus,  through  which 
the  good  are  introduced  into  happiness,  while  Typhone,  the  Satan  of 
the  Egyj)tians,  is  at  hand  to  receive  the  condemned,  and  convey  them 
back  to  earth,  where,  as  a  punishment  tor  their  sins,  they  are  doomed 
to  enter  into  the  body  of  some  unclean  aiiimal,  there  to  remain  until 
their  term  of  punishment  has  expired,  at\er  which  another  period  of 
probation  is  assigned  thelii,  and  another  punishment,  if  they  are  found 


A  JUDCIMENT  SCENE.  168 


wanting,  these  periods  of  probation  and  punishment  following  each 
other  ad  infinitum^  if,  upon  trial,  they  are  found  guilty. 

I  will  further  add,  that  never  have  I  seen  a  sweeter  expression  in  any 
human  countenance,  than  that  of  a  female  figure,  sculptured  upon  the 
flinty  rock  at  the  entrance  of  one  of  the  tonihs — certainly  never  such 
radiations  of  soul  from  the  cold  marble. 


THAPTER  XXIX. 
Kdcpository  Recorda. 

Aniuiig  the  s<'ulptured  triumphal  scenes  at  Thebes,  is  to  bo  seen  the 
likeness  of  a  Canaanite,  (grouped  with  captives  of  difTei^ent  nations,) 
so  inferred  to  be  because  it  is  directly  beneath  the  inscription,  "  Kaa- 
na,  barbarian  country."  It  has  been  remarked  that  all  the  earlier 
references  to  that  country*  on  the  Egyptian  monuments,  designate  it 
by  the  same  name,  '*  Kanana,"  while,  subsequently  to  the  i*onquests 
of  Joshua,  that  name  is  no  longer  used,  but  gives  place  to  that  of, 
''  The  Kingdom  of  J  udah,"  as  in  the  representation  of  Shishak  hum- 
bling the  power  of  Rehoboam,  a**  seen  on  the  walls  of  Kamac. 

And  here  it  is  natural  enough  to  advert  to  that  monstrous  biblical 
delusion,  which  originated  with  tlie  fathers,  and  has  been  perpetuated 
from  generation  to  generation,  viz.:  Tliat' slavery  has  been  entailed 
upon  the  African  rai^e,  as  a  consequence  of  the  curse  pronounced  upon 
Ham,  their  pro^(*nitor.  So  I  was  taught  to  believe  from  my  child- 
hood up,  nor  did  1  knew  any  better  till  my  attention  was  called  to  the 
passage  itself,  in  the  Dth  Ch.  of  Genesis,  when  I  was  surprised  to  find 
that  it  wa^  not  Ham,  but  Canaan,  his  youngest  son,  whose  descendants 
dwelt,  not  in  Egypt,  but  in  Canaan,  who  was  doomed  to  be  the  "  ser- 
vant of  servants."  Tliis  curso  was  doubtless  pr^icated  on  the  fore- 
knowledge of  the  depra\ed  and  impious  character  of  Canaan's  poster- 
ity, who  took  pijssession  of  the  land  that  })0Te  his  name,  in  contempt 
of  the  seed  of  Abraham,  to  whom  it  was  given  by  God  himself,  and 
who,  after  deliling  it  with  thvir  abominations,  (their  altars,  smoking 
with  humau  sacrifices.)  for  fifteen  hundred  years,  sufTored  a  righteous 
doom  at  the  hands  of  Joshua.  This  was  the  country  which  the  Egyp- 
tian monuments  described  as  "  barbarian,"  and  whose  doom  fulfilled 
the  prophetic  denunciations  of  Noah.  In  all  this,  there  is  no  connec- 
tion whatever  with  the  people  of  Africa,  or  with  the  character  of  its 
population.  Nor  did  the  Canaanite,  being  a  white  man,  resemble, 
either  in  feature  or  complexion,  the  negro  of  Africa.  That  Misraim, 
the  second  son  of  Ham,   settled   Egypt,   is   verrified   by    Egyptian 


1 


2^  LAND  OF  THK  PYRAKIDS. 

■    »  ■-..-■■■  ..I         ^  I  I  .  II,- 

annals,  and  that  Ham  himself  preceded  or  acoompanied  him,  is 
almost  equally  certain.  In  the  78th  Psalm,  Egypt  is  distinctly  de- 
nominated as  *'  the  tabernacles  of  Ham,"  and  its  early  monumental 
revcords,  inscribed  but  a  few  centuries  sfler  his  death,  give  his  name 
to  the  country. 

'^  These  are  the  three  sons  of  Noah,  and  of  them  was  the  whole 
earth  overspread,"  says  the  inspired  penman,  the  descendants  of  Ja- 
pheth  taking  the  direction  of  Southern  Europe,  first  peopled  '^the 
Isles  of  the  Gentiles/'  while  those  of  Shem,  and  among  them  the 
Israelites,  inliabited  different  parts  of  Western  Asia,  and  those  of 
Ham  the  land  of  Canaan  and  the  Valley  of  Shinar,  in  Asia,  and  the 
Valley  of  the  Nile,  in  Africa,  and  from  these  begimiings  the  three 
continents  were  oyerspread,  and  the  fourth  in  due  time. 

It  has  been  remarked,  as  v^  matter  worthy  of  notice,  that  in  the 
Coptic,  and  also  in  the  hieroglyphic  inscriptions,  the  word  signifying 
stranger  is  sheinmo,  doubtle^  from  Shem,  whose  descendants  were 
denominated  strangers  in  the  land  of  Egypt.  Thus,  ^^  thou  shalt  not 
abhor  an  Egyptian,  because  thou  wast  a  stranger  in  his  land,"  and  Id 
many  other  instances. 

Even  to  this  day  the  country  retains  its  original  scriptural  name, 
being  called  by  its  present  Arab  occupants,  "  Misr,"  which  is  the 
Arabic  of  Misraim. 

In  all  this  there  is  nothing  to  connect  the  people  of  Egypt,  or  of  any 
other  country  of  Africa,  with  the  curse  pronounced  upon  Canaan,  that 
he  should  be  the  servant  of  servants.  On  the  other  hand,  the  pro- 
phetic malediction  was  literally  executed  upon  the  Canaanites  ia 
Palestine  for  their  wickedness,  and  they  were  doomed  to  become 
^*  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 
Vmi  to  Utrmeui  and  Eane, 

Having  finished  my  explorations,  we  again  embarked.  Tlie  north 
wind  was  blowing,  and  I  was  soon  boTne  away  from  tliis  scene  of 
wonders. 

A  few  hours  brought  me  to  the  ruins  of  Hermeut,  the  ancient  Her- 
monthis,  something  more  than  twenty  miles  above  Thebes,  and  about 
a  mile  from  the  river,  on  the  west  bank.  Only  a  few  pillars  of  a 
once  magnificent  temple,  and  the  cella  or  sanctum  entire,  with  dilapi- 
dated walls,  remain  to  attest  its  former  beauty.  This  ruin  is  sup* 
posed  to  be  one  of  the  oldest  in  Egypt,  and  yet  there  are  stones  in 


HBRM0NTI8.  2G6 


the  wall  oovered  with  hieroglyphics  in  an  inverted  position,  showing 
that  they  had  occupied  a  place  in  a  structure  which  had  gone  to  decay 
before  the  foundations  of  this  were  laid,  more  than  three  thousand 
yean  ago. 

Thirty  miles  above  Thebes,  on  the  same  side  of  the  river,  we 
arrived  at  Eane,  the  ancient  Latopolis,  and  here  I  found  a  fragment  of 
ancient  magnificence,  which,  for  elaborate  workmanship  and  high 
finish,  is  not  excelled  in  £gypt.  It  consists  of  the  portico  of  a  tern 
pie,  the  towering  columns  of  which  are  surmounted  by  capitals,  rep- 
resenting in  one  ttic  vine,  in  another  the  ivy.  in  a  third  the  palm  leaf, 
dec.,  no  two  of  them  being  alike,  and  all  covered  with  minute  figures 
of  animals,  exquisitely  wrought.  I  had  seen  grander  spectacles  at 
Thebes,  but  none  anywhere  which  exhibited  s<  much  beauty  and  gran- 
deur combined.  What  remains  of  the  walls  of  this  temple  are  most 
beautifully  adorned  with  sculptured  s<-eiies,  and  hieroglyphic  symbols, 
both  without  and  within. 

'Hiis  is  the  temple  in  which  the  discovery  of  an  inscription,  a  few 
years  ago,  supposed  to  represent  the  twelve  signs  of  the  zodiac,  was 
made  ;  a  discovery  which  created  a  most  profound  sensation  through- 
out the  learned  world,  furnishing,  as  it  was  supposed  to  do,  conclusive, 
evidence  that  the  true  system  of  astronomy  was  known  long  before 
Copernicus  revealed  it  to  the  world.  But  tlie  subsequent  discovery 
that  this  temple  may  have  been  built,  and  probably  was,  after  the 
Macedonian  conquest,  and  of  course  not  more  than  330  years  before 
Girist,  has  served  to  abate  the  intense  interest  onc«  centred  upon  it. 
And  besides,  I  should  by  no  means  consider  it  certain  that  the  inscrip- 
tion does  not  simply  portray  certain  astrological  emblems,  designed 
to  show  the  influence  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 

This  temple  is  nearly  buried  in  rubbish,  the  road  being  al')Out  on  a 
level  with  the  roof.  I  had  to  descend  quite  a  flight  of  steps  to  get 
into  it. 

£sne  is  a  place  of  several  thousand  inhabitants,  the  houses,  as  in 
other  principal  towns,  being  of  unburnt  brick,  with  the  bare  earth  for 
a  floor,  covered,  however,  sometimes  with  a  mat,  and  bordered  by  a 
raised  platform  all  around,  on  which  the  family  sit  and  sleep.  The 
wealthy  few  have  open  courts  surrounded  by  apartments. 

Here  centres,  to  some  extent,  the  caravan  trade  of  Nubia,  Kardo- 
fiin,  Sennaar  and  Darfour,  which  gives  the  plac^  quite  a  commercial 
aspect.  This  is  also  the  great  camel  market  to  which  the  Bedouin 
camel  breeders  who  occupy  the  desert  between  the  Valley  of  the  Nile 
and  the  Red  Sea,  resort  with  their  stock  for  sale,  much  of  it  being 
taken  by  the  traders  from  the  countries  above  named,  together  with 


266  LAND  OP  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


various  /cinds  of  manufactures,  in  exchange  for  ivory,  gum,  ostrich 
feathers,  slaves,-  6ic,  These  articles,  however,  are  taken  down  the 
Nile  to  Cairo,  where  the  sales  are  made. 

This,  with  many  other  towns  in  Upper  Ejrypt,  is  inhabited  mostly 
by  Copts,  the  original  inhabitants  of  the  country,  and  nominally 
christian.  My  visit  was  made  at  about  sun-rising,  and  even  at  that 
early  hour  the  inhabitants  were  busily  engaged  in  their  various  avo* 
cations,  the  women  spinning,  (after  the  fashion  I  have  elsewhere 
described,)  and  the  men  weaving,  grinding,  (by  horse  power,)  twirl- 
ing off  pottery,  dec.  Ranged  along  the  platforms  of  the  coffee  houses^ 
within  and  without,  sat  long  rows  of  men,  visible  only  through  clouds 
of  tobacco  smoke,  fuming  at  their  pipes  and  sipping  at  their  coffee, 
setting  the  wheels  of  life  in  motion  for  the  day. 

Hearing  wliat  seeihc<l  a  confusion  of  tongues  proceeding  from  a 
hut,  1  looked  in,  and,  as  I  expected,  squat  before  me  sat  the  school 
master,  with  his  urchins  about  him,  saying  their  lessons  aloud,  and 
rocking  their  bodies  in  tlie  mamier  I  have  described  in  another  place, 
only  these  were  Christians,  ai\^  repeated  t)ie  dogmas  of  a  supersti- 
tious creed,  instead  of  scraps  from  the  Koran.  A  little  further  on, 
in  delightful  contrast  to  this  jargon,  the  melody  of  song  was  poured 
upon  my  ears,  through  an  open  doorway,  from  a  company  of  females 
within,  sitting  upon  the  bai-e  ground,  who  seemed  to  have  assembled 
there  at  that  early  hour,  to  chant  their  niorning  orisons.  One  of  the 
number,  who  appeared  to  be  the  leader  of  the  band,  would  chant  a 
few  words;  when  the  rest  would  strike  in  and  rejwat,  and  sweeter 
strains  -of  melody  [  have  rarely  heard  from  human  lips.  They  were 
Coptic  Christians,  singing  their  hynms  of  moniing  devotion 

Meeting  a  fine  looking  man,  dressed  in  a  flowing  robe  of  fine  broad 
cloth,  I  desired  him  to  point  out  to  me  the  location  of  certain  remains 
of  an  ancient  edifice  which  I  wished  to  explore,  when,  with  much  ap- 
parent cheerfulness,  he  turned  out  of  his  course  and  went  with  me  a 
considerable  distance,  to  conduct  me  to  the  place.  As  we  went  along,  i 
he  occupied  the  time  in  saying  his  prayers  aloud,  stopping  here  and 
there  to  tnm  towards  Mecca,  and  by  the  time  we  arrived  at  the 
spot,  he  liad  gotten  pretty  well  through  with  what  I  took  to  be  his 
morning  devotions,  when  he  bid  me  a  complacent  good  morning, 
and  went  his  way  without  asking  a  buckskeish^'  something  very 
extraordinary  in  Egypt  I  met  with  others  who  wore  ex[ually  civil, 
and  all  seemed  delighted  to  se^  me  so  much  interested  in  their  af&ira, 
and  desirous  to  gratify  my  curiosity  liy  inviting  me  into  their  shops, 
and  showing  me  all  1  wanted  to  see.  And  the  dogs,  too,  seemed  to 
partake  of  the  civility  of  their  masters  and  mistresses,  treating  me 
with  becoming  respect  during  my  stay. 


CIVILITY  OK  MKNT  AND  DOGS.  stfT 


Just  as  I  had  finished  my  explorations,  and  had  turned  my  steps  to 
return  to  the  boat,  my  captain  called  Jbo  me  to  step  with  him  into  ail 
eating  house  near  hy.  ThitherM-ard  I  turned  my  steps,  but  more 
from  curiosity  than  hunger.  There  sat  a  man  forging  or  baking  pan 
cakes  on  a  sort  of  griddle  suspended  over  the  fire,  the  whole  opera- 
tion being  performed  with  tlie  fingers,  even  to  takmg  the  cakes  from 
the  griddle ;  but  the  most  interesting  portion  (X)nsisted  in  applying 
the  condiment,  by  dipping  the  fingers  into  a  can  of  oil  up  to  the 
knuckles,  and  letting  it  drop  off  upon  the  cakes  fnmi  the  finger  ends^ 
which  seemed  to  ]>e  the  measure  allowed  to  a  batch  for  one  person. 
My  appetite  was  fully  satisfied  with  the  sight — my  captain  doing  tl» 
eating. 

It  is  presumable,  however,  that  the  man's  hand  was  clean  at  the 
time,  but,  such  is  the  natural  color  of  the  skin  that  it  is  difficult  to 
tell  whether  it  is  defiled  or  undefiled.  But  if  it  had  been  as  clean  as 
soap  and  wat^r  could  make  it,  it  must  have  been  a  pretty  hard  neces- 
sity to  overcome  my  fastidiousness. 

It  should  be  noted  here,  that  here  and  there  a  commercial  place  like 
this,  presents  a  very  different  aspect  from  the  agricultural  villages 
generally,  which  nn^  so  fro/]iient  upon  the  banks  of  the  Nile. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

lonifjif  of  KUiUmcuiy  of  B^ni  Ilassiui,   omi  iSiouL 

Twenty  miles  a>)ove  Esne,  on  the  eastern  bank,  we  arrived  at  "  the 
tombs  of  El-Cab,"  sometimes  called  the-  "  Grottoes  of  EleitheiaSj** 
which,  like  those  of  Thebes,  consist  of  excavations  in  the  mountain 
rock.  The  paintings  in  these  tombs  are  extremely  fresh  and  vivid> 
the  colors,  for  the  most  part,  possessmg  all  their  original  brilliancy, 
undimmed  by  the  dust  of  time.  Curiosity  h^is  been  centered  upon  them 
more  especially,  fts  furnishing,  beyond  those  of  any  other  locality, 
representations  of  the  rural  life  of  the  ancient  Egyptians.  Here  are 
found  the  various  scenes  of  domestic  life,  the  labors,  and  sports  of  the 
field,  the  implements  and  products  of  agriculture,  processes  of  manu- 
fecture,  fishing,  fowling,  banqueting,  funeral  processions,  &c.,  &C., 
minutely  and  faithfully  delineated.  And  the  remarkable  fact  is  thus 
developed,  that  in  many  things  these  people  are  just  where  they  were 
thirty  centuries  ago,  and  that  in  others  they  have  retrograded,  while 
they  have  advanced  in  nothing. 

Let  us  enter  one  of  the  largest  apartments — upon  a  chair  ricUj 
adorned,  is  seated  the  master  of  the  house  and  his  wife,  in  costly  ap- 


s«8  JaAxd  of  ths  ptramids. 

parel,  with  a  monkey  and  basket  of  gn4>es  at  their  feet,  while  there 
appear  to  be  near  them  a  large  number  of  guests  sitting  in  rows,  men 
and  women,  each  with  the  lotus  flower  in  one  hand,  evidently  assem* 
bled  upon  some  festive  occasion,  as  some  of  the  attendants  are  passing 
refreshments  to  them.  There  are  tables  loaded  with  viands,  and  the 
oocasion  is  enlivened  with  the  presence  of  musicians  and  dancers.' 
One  lady  is  plaf  ing  upon  the  harp,  another  upon  what  seems  a  flute, 
ai\d  four  are  dancing,  one  of  whom  apart  from  the  rest,  holds  a  dag* 
ger  in  each  hand. 

'  Next  the  master  is  seen  walking,  accompaqied  by  his  servants,  one 
of  whom  carries  a  chair,  another  a  mat,  and  a  third  a  water  pot — ^he 
seems  to  be  going  to  the  field  where  his  laborers  are  at  work,  and 
where  they  are  seen  hoeing,  plowing,  rolling  and  sowing,  reaping,  har- 
vesting, threshing,  winnowing,  carrying  the  grain  to  the  granary,  and 
from  the  granary  to  the  boat.  Mul^,  asses,  oxen,  cows,  sheep  and 
goats,  are  seen  in  an  enclosure  near  by.  We  see  fishermen  with  their 
nets,  and  fowlers  with  their  game,  and  also  the  process  of  dressing 
and  curing  both  fish  and  fowl. 

And  here  is  a  field  of  flax,  and  laborers  are  employed  in  harvesting 
it,  pulling  it  up  by  the  roots,  binding  it  in  bundles,  and  combing  it, 
just  as  J  saw  them  do  it  in  Alexandria.  Ship  building  is  also  going  on, 
and  sailing  parties  are  to  be  seen.  And  there  is  a  funeral  procession, 
moving  in  all  the  pompous  ceremonial  which  a  fruitful  superstition 
marshals  around  the  dead,  &c.,  6sc. 

There  seems  to  be  no  end  to  the  tombs  that  pierce  the  mountain 
chains,  which  wall  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  Wherever  the  remains 
of  an  ancient  town  are  discovered,  the  mountain  ledge  back  of  it  is 
found  to  be  occupied  by  the  chambers  of  the  dead,  cut  in  the  solid 
rock,  where  the  deceased  were  surrounded  with  the  objects  in  which 
they  most  delighted  when  living,  some  placed  by  their  side,  and  even 
within  the  coflin-lid,  and  others  portrayed  upon  the  walls. 

At  Beni  Hassau,  some  two  degrees  South  of  Cairo,  on  the  East 
bank  of  the  Nile,  I  visited  as  I  came  along,  one  of  these  "  cities  of  the 
dead,"  occupying  the  interior  of  a  ledge  in  the  rear  of  the  town  for 
more  than  a  mile.  Some  of  the  tombs  there  are  scarcely  excelled  for 
magnificence  by  any  in  Egypt,  being  immensely  large,  a  single  apart- 
ment measuring  sixty  feet  in  length,  nearly  the  same  in  width,  and 
forty  in  height,  ornamented  with  columns  formed  in  imitation  of  three 
palm  branches  tied  together,  which  is  the  ancient  Egyptian  st^le.  It 
is  a  paragon  of  grandeur  and  taste,  being  adorned  with  a  portico  sus- 
tained by  huge  fluted  columns,  {(11  standing  as  part  and  parcel  of  the 
native  mountain  rock,  and  overlooking  the  valley  of  the  Nile.     From 


TOMBS  OP  BENT  HASSAN.  269 

"^  '  '  .  '  I  II  I  ■  1 .1.  I  .  0 
J , 

this  another  apartment  is  entered  of  nearly  the  same  dimensions,  the 
roof  of  which  is  cut  into  arches,  which  rest  upon  massive  fluted  col- 
umns, also  a  part  of  the  mountain  rock,  presenting  a  spectacle  of  great 
beAuty  and  grandeur.  These  grottoes  are  famous  for  having  been 
taken  possession  of  by  holy  hermits  in  early  christian  times,  who  thus 
entombed  themselves  alive. 

The  paintings,  however,  though  they  yield  to  none  in  interest,  are 
not  in  as  good  a  state  of  preservation  as  those  of  Thebes  and  Eleithe- 
ias,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  nor  are  they,  like  them,  laid  upon  relief 
Still  they  are  distinct,  and  there  is  no  difficulty  in  tracing  out  the 
scenes  and  events  they  represent. 

A  large  space  is  here  devoted  to  the  representation  of  gymnastic 
exercises,  such  as  wrestling,  jumping,  tumbling,  fencing,  and  such  like 
feats  of  agility,  which  served  to  develope  the  muscular  strength,  and 
which  seem  to  have  been  a  common  pastime.  Here  too  were  repre- 
sented all  sorts  of  domestic  animals,  as  horses,  mules,  donkeys,  cattle, 
dec.,  and  of  the  latter  there  were  four  varieties,  viz :  hump-backed, 
long  horns,  short  horns,  and  hornless,  and  all  with  finely  turned  forms. 
In  one  instance,  there  was  quite  a  drove  of  them,  which  seemed  des- 
tined for  sacrifice.  Quite  a  variety  of  birds  and  fishes  are  also  delineo 
ated. 

It  was  quite  a  little  spectacle  to  me  to  see  an  ox  brought  upon  his 
knees  by  an  arrow  which  had  pierced  his  scull,  having  just  sped  its 
way  from  the  bow  of  the  archer,  as  I  had  not  conceived  it  possible, 
I  that  so  humble  a  missile  could  do  such  execution.  In  another  instance, 
the  pate  of  a  stag  was  thus  pierced,  and  several  others  were  lying  pros- 
trate, which  had  been  brought  down  by  the  same  means. 

Boats  and  pleasure  parties,  and  musical  instruments,  were  also  to 
be  seen  here,  one  of  the  latter  resembling  the  accordeon.  But  one  of 
the  most  interesting  representations,  was  that  of  the  weaver  at  his 
loom,  which  was  featened  to  four  stakes  driven  into  the  ground,  him- 
self being  seated  upon  that  part  of  the  web  which  was  finished,  and 
which  is  checked  with  yellow  and  green. 

At-Siout,  the  capital  of  Upper  E^ypt,  situated  perhaps  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  below  Thebes,  I  had  another  ramble  among  the  tombs, 
as  I  came  along.  Hie  mountain  ledge  two  miles  back  of  the  town  is 
covered  with  these  tombs,  but,  although  the  paintings  are  somewhat 
obliterated,  and  their  interior  choked  with  rubbish,  like  the  catecombs 
of  Alexandria,  still  they  present  features  of  great  interest.  The  apart-' 
ments,  saloons,  as  they  have  been  called,  are  very  large,  and  were  not 
only  studded  with  columns  adorned  with  painting  and  sculpture,  but 
burnished  with  gold,  which  still  glitters  from  the  ceiling.    The  porches 


no  LAND  OJb'   Tili5  PYRAAUDS. 


^e  all  covered  with  bieroglyphias  of  most  delicate  workmanship,  and 
^nd  sufRcient  iii  extei^  to  fill  many  an  ample  volume.  In  the  large 
apartments  numerous  recesses  are  cut  for  graves. 

These  tombs  appear  to  penetrate  the  mountain,  story  above  story, 
iliid  the  outer  apartments  seen>  to  lead  to  interior  chambers,  far  into 
,  ihe  bowels  of  the  mountain,  but  I  found  it  impossible  to  get  beyond 
the  first  tier  of  roonis,  by  reason  of  the  obstructions.  The  paintings, 
though  they  have  lost  much  of  their  original  britliaucy,  are  still  quit« 
legibly  distinct,  but  I  c^mnot  go  further  into  detail. 

It  should  be  added,  that  many  of  these  sepulchral  chambers  were 
consecrated  to  the  remains  of  embalmed  sacred  animals,  as  bulls,  croc- 
odiles, birds,  &c.,  particularly  the  Ibis.  ,  In  one  instance,  an  entire 
aeries  of  mounUiin  e.\i!avations  is  occupied  by  thos*-  nf  the  crocodile 
l^lone. 


CllAPTKK  XXXI  r. 
The  Oreat  Tempif  of  Edfou. — Ihe  Religion,  of  ihe  Ancient  Egyptians. 

Taking  leave  of  the  grottoes  of  Eleitlieias,  a  propitious  breeze 
aoon  bore  us  to  Edfou,  the  Ap]>o]inopolis  Magna  of  the  Greeks, 
twenty  miles  higher  up.  And  here  one  of  the  grandest  spectacles  to 
be  seen  in  Egypt,  presented  itself  to  view, — a  spectacle  indeed  which 
1|8S  no  rival,  in  kind,  in  this  land  of  wonders.  It  is  a  pyramidal  pro- 
jjylon  tp  a  temple,  consisting  of  two  towers,  one  on  ea<h  side  of  the 
gate-way,  each  of  which  is  one  hundred  feet  by  thirty  at  the  base, 
and  more  than  one  hundre^l  feet  in  height,  cx>nnect><'d  over  the  gate- 
way just  enough  to  form  a  frame  for  the  doors.  The  two  towers 
diminish  gradually  as  they  ascend,  and  at  the  top  are  about  eighty  feet 
by  twenty. 

This  towering  frt^^ment  rose  unexpectedly,  and  with  singular  effect, 
upon  my  view,  several  miles  aci*oss  the  plain,  as  I  approached.  Nor 
did  my  wonder  cease  as  I  drew  neai*.  It  hafi  more  the  appearance  of 
an  impregnable  fortress,  than  of  a  gate-way  to  a  temple.  Indeed,  as 
i|  refuge,  it  is  totally  inaccessible.  To  each  tower  there  is  a  stair- 
ease,  of  100  steps,  leading  to  spacious '  apaUnients  in  the  interior,  and 
vhen  the  small  passage-way  at  the  bottom  is  closed,  the  safety  of  the 
*  fiocupant  is  sealed  against  intrusion. 

The  temple  to  which  this  propylon  leads,  is  one  of  the  larger  claas, 
and  is  about  500  feet  long  by  more  than  200  wide,  and  is  probably  in 
^  better  state  of  preservation  ^than  any  other  of  equal  dimensions  in 


TUK  GREAT  PYRAMIDAL  PROPYLON.  271 


Egypt.  Passing  the  gate* way,  1  entered  an  open  court,,  of  spacious 
dimensions,  surrounded  with  very  large  columns,  about  forty  in  num- 
ber, with  antique  capitals  of  rare  beauty,  forming  a  portico  or  gallery 
all  around.  Beyond  this  was  another  largo  apartment  thickly  studded 
with  columns  of  still  more  massive  dimensions,  many  of  them  sur- 
mounted by  palm  leaf  capitals.  But  for  their  gigantic  dimensions,  they 
would  bear  no  unapt  resemblance  to  a  grove  of  the  date  palm.  But 
this  apartment  is  nearly  choked  up  with  rubbish,  and  only  a  partial 
view  of  it  can  bo  obtained. 

This  temple  is  surrounded  by  a  wall,  extraneous  to  itself,  six  or 
eight  feet  in  thickness,  and  the  whole,  temple,  enclosing  wall,  and 
propylon,  are  covered  all  over,  w^ithout  and  within,  with  ^gures  of 
men,  gods,  beasts,  l>irds  and  creeping  things. 

The  figures  of  men  (carved  in  outline)  are  of  more  gigantic  dimen- 
sions than  are  to  be  seen  elsewhere  in  Egypt,  being  not  less  than 
thirty  feet  in  height,  and  of  muscular  proportions.  Their  appearance 
is  in  harmony  with  these  stupendous  remains,  and  one  can  hardly  help 
thinking  that  they  were  the  men  to  build  them. 

The  birds,  betists  and  "  creeping  things,"  are  on  the  opposite  ex- 
treme, being  most  elaborately  wrought  into  minute  figures,  as  hiero- 
glyphic symbols,  and  they  are  highly  ornamental  to  the  edifice. 

There  is  no  computing  the  expense  of  such  a  temple, — an  age  would 
scarcely  ^suffieo  to  complete-  it,  and  a  whole  generation  of  slave  sub- 
jects must  be  taxed  in  its  erection.  Wonderful  indeed  must  have 
been  the  devotion  of  the  ancient  Egyptians  to  their  idol  gods. 

From  the  earliest  ages  to  which  their  monumental  records  extend, 
the  ancient  Egyptians  appear  to  have  been  pre-eminently  a  religious 
people.  Of  this,  the  gigantic  remains  I  have  described,  furnish  abun- 
dant testimony.  And  their  religion  appears  to  have  been  of  the  aus- 
terest  kind,  for  while  the  number  and  magnificence  of  their  temples 
were  such  as  almost  to  exceed  belief,  not  a  theatre,  circus,  amphithe- 
atre, or  the  vestige  of  one,  as  I  have  observed,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
whole  country,  nothing  but  temples,  temples,  temples !  The  only 
remains  which  show  any  appearance  of  having  been  devoted  to 
amusement,  as  I  have  said, — consist  of  traces  of  what  is  supposed  to 
have  been  a  race  course  at  Thebas.  How  diflerent  from  the  remains 
of  most  other  ancient  nations.  What  a  contrast  do  they  present  to 
those  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  whose  theatres,  circuses  and  am- 
phitheatres constituted  the  leading  characteristic  ? 

Thus  it  was  with  them  as  pagans,  and,  in  transferring  their  r^ards 
from  one  god  to  another,  or  from  many  to  one,  the  same  characteris- 
tic is  strongly  developed.     During  the  palmy  days  of  Cliristianity, 


«72  LAND  OF  THE  PYRAlOBa 

^^g^n— I    -  ^ r    -    I  1-     ■        ■  ■  T^  -~- 1     II  -  I       —      -  — r     -  ■  ■  i  ,  _    _ ^ m  —  i  i  _ ^^^^-_^^^^^»^^^^^— ^— 

Egypt  stood  conspicuous  for  examples  of  exalted  piety.  And  here 
too,  it  was,  that  the  true  religion  first  degenerated  into  arrant  super- 
stition, and  the  austerities  of  monastic  life  were  engrafted  upon  it. 
Anthony,  a  young  peasant  of  Upper  Egypt,  was  the  first  monk,  and 
established  the  first  monastic  institution.  Afler  passing  some  years 
among  the  tombs  of  Thebas,  he  advanced  tJiree  days  journey  into  the 
Ekistern  desert,  and  took  up  his  abode  upon  Mount  Colzim,  where  he 
lived  in  seclusion,  practising  the  most  rigid  austerities  to  the  end  of 
his  long  life  of  105  years.  His  example  was  s6on  followed  by  mul- 
titudes throughout  Egypt,  and  the  infection  soon  spread  over  all 
Christendom ;  a  system  of  penance  was  thus  gradually  substituted  for 
faith  and  good  works,  and  for  this  paganism  had  prepared  the  way. 

The  religion  of  Mohammed  consists  entirely  in  observances,  in 
meats  and  drinks,  saying  a  certain  number  of  prayers  each  day,  &c., 
t!^.,  the  prescriptions  of  the  Koran  extending  to  the  minutest  actions 
of  life,  leaving  nothing  to  the  spontaneous  homage  of  the  heart. 

But  in  the  performance  of  this  routine  these  people  are  punctiously 
exact,  and  nothing  can  exceed  the  seriousness  of  their  devotions.  I 
have  never  witnessed  so  much  seriousness  in  our  Christian  churches, 
as  I  have  seen  manifested  in  a  Mohammedan  Mosque,  by  the  devotees 
of  the  Koran,  uiidor  the  delusion  that  they  were  thils  working  out 
their  salvation.  Five  times  a  day  they  arc  called  to  prayei*s  by  the 
public  crier,  and  whatever  their  engagement  at  the  time,  it  is  aban- 
doned at  once  for  the  higher  duties  o^  religion.  And  wherever  they 
happen  to  be,  when  the  time  of  prayer  arrives,  upon  a  journey,  or  in 
circumstances  which  render  it  inconvenient  to  enter  a  mosque,  and 
whoever  may  be  present,  thoy  at  once  set  themselves  in  order  for 
their  devotions,  prefacing  the  performance  by  the  audible  tmnounoc- 
ment  (with  the  face  toward  Mecca)  of  their  intention  to  bow  down  to 
the  earth  before  God  a  certain  number  of  times.  Then,  with  the  fiice 
still  toward  the  tomb  of  the  prophet,  they  commence  and  go  through 
with  the  ceremony,  bowing  upon  the  knees  and  touching  the  earth 
with  the  forehead,  rising  to  their  feet,  turning  the  head  to  whisper  to 
angels  over  the  shoulder,  holding  the  thumbs  to  the  ears  with  the 
hands  spread  like  wings,  again  bowing  to  the  earth,  and  so  on,  repeat- 
ing the  process  over  and  over  again,  for  a  considerable  time.  I  have 
seen  the  operation  performed  upon  the  steam-boat,  in  the  midst  of  a 
crowd,  and  upon  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  beneath  a  palm-tree,  the  per- 
former going  through  with  his  evolutions  in  apparent  unconsciousness 
of  their  being  any  one  near  him.  When  their  devotions  are  per^ 
formed  in  a  mosque,  a  mat  is  spread  for  the  purpose ;  upon  the  steam- 
boat, the  outer  garment  was  used  instead. 


SKETCHES  OF  BORDER  UFK.  273 


SKETCHES  OF. BOEDER  LIFE. 


VV  A   CIVIL  KKOfKCKB. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Camp  Afeeting — Trouftk  in  (mr  oion  Camp — 77w  Dru(fgisCs  Clerk. 

An  opportunity  was  afforded  us,  while  we  were  encamped  \w  the 
breaks  of  the  Skunk  IJiver,   of  attending   one   of  these  gatherings. 
The  party  turned  out  to  a  man,  and  with  a  full  load  the  little  mules 
gallopped  over  hill  and  dell,   \\\  the   directi(^n   of  the  encampment. 
There  was  an  occasional  unloading,  however,  jvs  the  driver  drew  up  at 
the  foot  of  some  steep  hill,  and  called  out,  "  pile  out,"  or,  at  the  top 
of  some  precipitous  descent,  where  it  was  necessary  to  put  a  rail  be- 
tween the  wheels  to  prevent  the  wagon  from  nmning  over  the  team. 
Arriving  a  little  before  dusk,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  meeting,  we 
fastened  our  team  to  a  tree,  among  some  hundred  or  more  others,  and 
proceeded  to  the  premises.     The  meeting  was  held  in  a  small  grove 
of  oaHs,  and  had  then  been  in  operation  some  three  or  four  weeks. 
Rough  seats  of  oak  boards  and  slabs  were  fastened  among  the  trees, 
covering  an  acre  or  more  of  ground,  through  which  were  left  suitable 
aisles  for  passage.     Around  the  outside,  at  a  distance  of  forty  or  fifty 
feet  apart,  were  built  small  platforms,  about  four  feet  high,  and  cov- 
ered with  earth.     Upon  these,  fires  were  built  for  fiiniishing  light.    In 
front  was  built  a  small  shanty  of  rough  boards,  which  was  occupied 
by  the  preacliers,  the  back  part  answering  for  a  kit^-hen  and  reception 
room,  and  the  front  divided  into  two  stories,  the  lower  one  occupied 
by  berths,  after  the  steamboat  fashion,  and  the  upper  one,  which  was 
entered  from  the  out^ido,  being  open  in  front,  was  fuiTiished  with   a 
bench  on  the  back,  ancL  a  shelf  extending  across  the  front,  and  an- 
swered the  purpose  of  ^  pulpit.     The  whole  area  was  enclosed  by  a 
circle  of  tents  and  temporary  shanties,  occupied  by  families  who  had 
come  from  a  distance  and  made  a  permanent  stay  of  it.      An  open 
handed  hospitality  is  extended  by  these  occupants  in  the  way  of  lodg- 
uig  for  the  night,  to  those  who  wish  to  tarry  for  the  next  day's  servi- 
ces.    Their  kindness  is  sometimes  abused  bv  nialicious  or  mischievous 
persons,  but  they  do  not  often  M'earv  in  well  doing. 

The  time  had  not  arrived  for  the  opening  of  services,   but  little 


)74  8KBT0HES  OF  BORDBR  UFS. 

_^ ^^^_ _^ • 

knots  were  collected  here  and  there,  engaged  in  singing  and  prayer. 
The  contending  voices  thus  eng«iged  created  not  a  little  confusion,  as 
each  prayed  and  snng  entirely  independent  of  others.  The  hymns 
were  such  as  have  been  used  from  time  immemorial  on  such  occasiouSy 
and  no  others.  They  consist  of  curious  medleys  of  words  strung  to- 
gether, abounding  in  rhapsody,  interlarded  throughout  with  "Glory, 
Ilalleluya,"  «fec.,  sung  entirely  from  memory. 

Presently  the  sound  of  a  horn  blown  with  tremendous  vigor  by  a 
reverend  gentleman  who  occupied  the  pulpit,  interrupted  the  private 
proceedings,  and  called  in  the  stragglers  to  service.  The  discourse 
was  plain,  practical,  and  to  the  point,  portraying  vividly  the  trials  and 
sufferings  of  our  Savior  on  earth,  his  wondrous  love  and  condescen- 
sion, his  infinite  meekness,  his  forbearance  with  his  persecutors,  and 
love  for  a  dying  world. 

lie  commenced  in  a  calm  tone  and  subdued  manner.  vAs  he  pro- 
ceeded, he  waxed  warm  with  his  subject,  and  his  whole  action  was 
pervaded  by  his  excited  feelings.  1  lis  face  \^as  tathed  in  a  torrent  of 
tears,  as  with  choked  utterance  and  touching  pathos,  he  described  the 
death  of  the  Son  of  God.  Th«  struggle  in  the  garden,  the  t4*ial  and 
condemnation,  the  insults  and  buHetuigs  of  his  persecutors,  and  finally 
the  crucifixion,  were  portrayed  with  terrible  force  and  energy.  Ilis 
audience  were  Imthed  in  tears,  convulsed  with  agony.  Men  wrung 
their  hands,  rocked  to  and  fro,  and  groaned  aloud ;  .women  clasped 
each  other  in  their  arms,  and  sank  upon  the  ground  with  shrieks  and 
wailings  that  were  piteous  to  hear.  The  excitement  was  intense.  Not 
a  soul  in  the  assembly  that  was  not  ready  to  rush  at  his  bidding  to  the 
altar,  and  prostrate  itself  in  the  dust  in  remorse  and  contrition.  But 
ho  was  not  rea<lv  for  that.  The  terrible  retribution  that  was  in 
store  for  those  who  refused  to  accept  the  means  of  salvation  offered 
now  became  his  tbeme.  He  denounced,  in  tones  of  thunder,  the  guilty 
wretch  who  was  so  presumptuous  as  to  oppose  his  will  to  the  divine 
authority,  and  to  reject  the  offered  boon.  He  called  God  to  witness  that 
there  stood  before  him  that  night,  many,  very  many,  who  were  steel- 
ing their  hearts  in  dire  rebellion  against  all  his  commands.  lie  de- 
scribed the  fiery  torments  of  hell,  the  wailings  of  the  damned;  and, 
as  he  strode  to  and  fro  in  his  narrow  pulpit,  he  threw  his  arms  about^ 
tossed  his  head  in  wild  confusion,  and  in  hoarse  tones  invoked  the 
direst  wrath  of  Almighty  God  upon  the  sinners  who  refused  to  obey 
his  call.  Ilis  audience  were  hushed  in  silence  and  horror,  lliey 
stood  aghiist  at  the  terrible  revelations  made  to  them,  and  horror 
stricken  at  the  vileness  of  their  owm  hearts,  and  the  awful  punishment 
awaiting  them.     Most  of  them  had  risen  in  their  places,  and  as  the 


SCEKES.  275 


preacher  paused,  and  then  raising  his  arms  high  above  his  head, 
and  shouted,  in  a  voice  hoarse  with  speaking,  and  inarticulate  with 
passion,  "  Come !  come  to  Jesus !  Come  to  the  arms  of  an  all  for- 
giving God  I  Now  is  the  accepted  time !  Oh,  grieve  not  the  spirit 
away  ! "  The  audience  rushed  with  one  accord  to  the  open  space  in 
front  of  the  pulpit,  and  fell  upon  their  knees,  grovelled  in  the  dust, 
and  rolled  in  convulsions  upon  the  earth,  llie  scene  was  terrible  be- 
yond description.  The  groans,  cries  and  wailings  of  these  despairing 
souls  were  intermingled  with  the  hmd  voice  of  prayer  from  the  min- 
isters who  had  descended  and  were  kneeling  among  them,  and  the  tri- 
umphant voice  of  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  entreaty  and  denunciation, 
joined  in  by  older  members,  while  here  and  there  was  raised  above 
the  crowd  a  haggard  face  with  streaming  eyes  and  dislievelled  hair, 
peering  wildly  into  the  black  sky  above. 

The  speaker  continued  his  denunciations  from  the  pulpit,  though 
almost  exhausted  with  his  efforts.  Nothing  was  needed  to  complete 
the  babel  of  sounds,  i  stood  in  an  elevated  position,  whore  I  sur- 
veyed the  whole  scene  with  a  mingled  feeling  of  awe  and  horror. 
The  fires  had  burnt  low,  and  the  light  thrown  over  the  scene  was  pale 
and  indistinct.  It  flickered  upon  the  white  tents,  and,  further  on, 
upon  the  dark  foliage  of  the  trees  and  their  frightened  denizens.  An 
owl  shouted  a  dismal  "  too-whoo,  too-whoo,"  and  the  night  hawks 
swooped  down  into  the  circle  with  a  wild  scream,  tmd  up  into  the 
darkness.  It  was  au  inipuessive  scene,  and  one  long  to  bt  remem- 
bered. 

But,  to  return  to  our  quarters :  our  cook  was  a  snappish  and  irri- 
table old  fellow,  making  himself  the  mark  for  all  the  surplus  fun  and 
practical  joking  in  the  camp,  but  the  boys  carried  it  a  little  too  far 
one  moniing,  aiid  "  Old  Spoons"  shouldered  his  equipage,  consisting  of 
a  tin  camp-kettle  and  an  iron  spoon,  and  left  us  "  in  the  lurch."  We 
tried  cooking  by  turns,  but  the  bread  was  lead,  the  game  spoiled  in 
cooking,  and  everything  covered  with  dirt  and  grease.  Old  Spoons 
had  us.  We  tried  to  coax  him  btick,  and  tried  to  buy  him  back,  but 
he  saw  our  misery  and  laughed  at  us,  enjoying  his  revenge,  finally, 
in  desperation,  we  engaged  a  young  scion  from  the  Sucker  State,  who 
came  traveling  by  our  camp  w^ith  a  bundle  on  his  shoulder,  and  who 
said  he  could  cook.  He  was  forthwith  christened  "  Sucker,"  and  set 
to  work.  His  first  meal  would  defy  description.  It  was  a  conglom- 
erated mass  of  bacon,  squirrel,  quail,  potatoes,  onions,  cabbage,  &c., 
the  predominant  quality  being  pepper  and  vinegar — a  perfect  "  oUa 
podrida,"  and  all  served  up  in  a  big  dish  pan.  This  he  called  a  "stew," 
We  rose  from  the  table,  or  rather  from  the  camp  chest,  indignant  and 


2Y«  SKBTCHSS  OF  BORDER  LIFE. 

disgusted,  and  voted  the  cook  a  humbug,  giving  him,  as  a  puniahm^it, 
the  eating  of  the  mass  he  Iiad  concocted.  He  seemed  in  nowise  dis- 
pleased at  this,  but  seated  himself  and  never  feased  eating  till  the  last 
mouthful  had  disappeared.  Still  we  concluded  to  keep  him,  as  the 
least  of  two  evils.  We  could  make  him  useful  as  a  guard  over  the 
camp  in  our  absence,  and  in  chopping  wood,  &c.  Now  the  post  of 
guard  was  no  sinecure,  for  the  praiiies  are  full  of  hogs  in  a  wild  state, 
that  fear  neither  man  nor  beast,  and  they  had  blockaded  our  camp, 
and  seized  everything  they  could  lay  hold  of.  '^  Sucker  '^  entered  into 
the  spirit  of  the  thing  with  determination,  and  established  a  reputa- 
tion woii:hy  of  the  cause,  in  his  many  combats  with  these  land  sharks. 
He  would  bound  from  his  bed  at  all  times  of  the  night,  and,  rushing 
into  the  open  air,  scatter  the  hogs  with  a  wild,  unearthly  yell,  that 
seemed  like  Pandemonium  broke  loose,  flying  away  into  the  open 
prairie  with  the  speedy  of  the  wind,  the  hogs  ahead  with  ears  laid  hack 
and  tails  straightened  to  the  race.  The  yells  of  the  boy,  the  cries  of 
the  animals,  and  sound  of  many  feet  trampling  in  contrast  to  the  sol- 
emn, deathlike  stillness  of  the  prairies,  awoke  a  scene  hardly  equalled 
except  in  Pandemonium  itself. 

It  was  nearly  an  equal  niat<*h.  Both  parties  were  gifled  with  de- 
termination and  enei^y,  both  determined  to  conquer,  and  as  it  finally 
ended,  the  hogs  were  too  much  for  "  Sucker." 

Being  not  far  from  camp,  one  day  ray  atti^ntion  wjis  attracted  by  a 
great  uproar  in  that  direction.  Ix>oking  up,  I  saw  enough  to  attract 
my  curiosity,  and  sat  down  to  watch  the  scene.  ITie  cooking  tent 
was  open  at  both  ends,  uiid  closed  at  the  sides ;  in  the  centre  of  it 
stood  our  redoubtable  cook,  like  a  tiger  at  bay,  and  on  each  side  of 
him  at  the  ends  of  the  tent,  a  drove  of  hogs,  wild  and  furious  at  their 
baffled  efforts  to  get  at  the  provision.  **  Sucker "  presented  an  un- 
daunted front,  and  used  his  lungs  with  a  power  that  seemed  to  wake 
slumbering  sounds,  that  made  even  the  prairies  echo.  He  bounded 
from  side  to  side,  and  yelled  like  a  demon.  Holding  a  huge  butcher- 
knife  in  one  hand,  and  a  fork  in  the  other,  he  would  cut  a  hog  acrxMs 
the  nose  with  the  one.  and  plunge  the  other  up  to  the  handle  into  him, 
and  leave  it  sticking  there,  and^  then,  snatching  another  fork  would 
serve  the  next  one  the  same  way.  He  fought  long  and  desperately, 
but  human  strength  could  not  hold  out  agunst  such  fearful  odds.  His 
energy  flagged  and  the  hogs  waxed  fiercer  and  fiercer.  The  hot  water 
was  all  gone,  the  forks  were  sticking  in  all  directions  in  the  backs  of 
the  hogs,  and  he  had  nothing  left  but  his  good  knife,  and  what  could 
he  do  against  so  many  1  Gradually  they  closed  in  upon  him,  and, 
making  a  sudden  rush  all  together,  they  tripped  up  his  heels,  and  all 


SCENES.  277 


was  over.  "  Sucker  "  went  down  with  a  defiant  yell,  and,  for  a  few 
minutes,  all  was  confusion  and  dust.  A  glimpse  might  bo  got  occa- 
sionally of  the  hero,  now  on  top,  and  now  under  a  hog,  fighting  to  the 
last,  fighting  for  dear  life,  defeated  but'  not  conquered,  for  still  liis  de- 
fiant  yell  could  be  heard  smothered  by  the  noise  of  the  conflict.  Re- 
doubtable "  Sucker  " !  Well  did  he  bear  himself  in  the  trying  hour ! 
At  last  he  emerged  from  the  fight,  ignominiouftly  it  is  true,  for  he  was 
rolled  out  by  the  snout  of  an  enormous  old  porker,  when,  picking 
himself  up,  he  walked  slowly  to  the  sleeping  tent,  and  pulled  out  his 
bundle,  dung  it  over  his  shoulder,  and  turned  to  take  one  look  at  his 
conquerors  who  were  feasting  themselves  on  our  provisions.  Proudly 
he  lumed  his  back  upon  them,  and  walked  away.  Ever  and  anon  the 
wind  brought  back  his  yell,  clear,  wild  and  ringing.  Unconquerable 
pluck  to  the  last.  Twas  the  last  we  ever  saw  of  him  ;  his  brave 
heart  could  not  brook  the  sight  of  the  place  of  his  defeat,  and  he  left 
us,  without  calling  for  his  wages. 

.With  another  rather  amusing  incident,  I  will  conclude  this  paper. 
Wishing  to  procure  some  sugar  of  lead  as  a  remedy  for  poison  that  1 
had  caught  in  the  woods,  I  called  at  a  small  drug  store  in  the  village 

of  W .     The  proprietor  was  absent  on  a  trip  U)  "  York  "  for 

"goods,"  but  in  his  substitute  I  recognized  an  old  ])ackwoodsman, 
through  whose  farm  we  had  run  sundry  railroad  surveys  not  long  be- 
fore, lie  was  a  genuine  specimen  of  a  **  Hawkey e;"  tall^  gaunt,  &c,, 
and  six  feet  in  his  stockings,  he  stood  before  me  with  his  pantaloons 
s%uck  in  the  tops  of  his  boots,  his  shirt  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  his  hands 
in  his  breeches  pockets,  looking  the  picture  of  border  independence. 
He  was  surrounded  by  as  motley  a  stock  of  drufjfs  as  ever  met  the 
eye  of  mortal,  a  few  pieces  of  calico,  a  barrel  or  two  of  sugar,  a  box 
of  tea,  and  a  bundle  pf  axe  helves,  filled  the  foreground  of  the  picture, 
while  a  row  of  bottles  on  one  shelf,  and  patent  medicines,  warranted 
to  cure  the  ague  and  every  other  ill  to  which  the  flesh  is  heir,  com- 
pleted the  stock  in  trade.  Ilawkeye  watched  me,  as  I  surveyed  the 
stock  and  equipments,  with  an  air  that  seemed  to  say  "You  don't 
beat  that  very  easy,  I  reckon.  You  don't  git  up  sich  doins  as  them  in 
yer  country  villages.  No  sir-ee."  I  quietly,  inquired  for  the  article 
I  wished  to  purchase,  and  received  for  answer  very  briefly  and  concise- 
ly spoken  "I  reckon,"  and  squaring  himself  around  to  fape  the 
shelves,  he  proceeded  to  examine  the  row  of  bottles,  being  evidently 
in  a  quandary  as  to  where  to  find  the  article  in  question,  yet  not  wish- 
ing to  "  let  on  "  as  the  universal  saying  is  in  Iowa. 

He  made  sundry  dives  at  various  queer  shaped  bottles,  and  brought 
them  fiM*th  for  examination,  managing  very  shrewdly  to  find  out  from 


218  SKETCHES  OP  BORDFR  LIFE. 

me  tliat  it  was  not  what  I  wanted,  without  seeming  to  betray  his  own 
ignorance.  Some  kind  friend  of  his  who  seemed  to  be  "  posted  up  '* 
on  the  subject,  informed  him  that  the  bottle  or  jar  would  be  marked 
Acetate  of  Lead,  consequently  as  earch  was  instituted  for  "Acetate  of 
Lead."  Each  and  every  bottle,  beginning  at  the  end  of  the  row,  was 
taken  down  and  spelt  out  letter  .by  letter,  but  still  no  sugar  of  lead 
was  produced.  My  friend  was  at  last  nonphisscd,  and  owned  up  that 
he  did  not  know  sugar  of  load  from  arsenic,  which  was  a  doubtful 
state  of  things  for  a  druggist's  chrk.  He  said,  however,  that  he  had 
used  some  once  to  cure  sore  eyes,  and  thought  he  knew  how  it  smelt, 
and  as  a  last  effort,  had  recourse  to  his  nasal  organs.  The  scene  was 
becoming  amusing,  and  I  watched  it  with  interest.  lie  entered  into 
the  search  with  all  the  zeal  and  energy  of  a  Yankee.  Commencing 
once  more  at  the  beginning  of  the  row  he  smelt  his  way  through.  All 
went  well  for  a  while,  though  he  nuide  some  long  fiices  at  the  various 
compounds  he  encountered,  until  he  arrived  at  a  large  glass  jar  of 
ammonia,  piore  commonly  called  hartshorn.  He  had  by  this  time 
become  warmed  up  by  his  long  and  fruitless  search,  and  seemed  de- 
termined to  surmount  all  difficulties  or  die  in  the  attetnpt.  His  eye 
flashed  as  he  seized  the  big  jar,  he  held  it  off,  and  looked  at  it  with  a 
triumphant  glance  that  seemed  to  cry,  "  Eureka !"  I  have  found  it !  he 
snatched  off  the  lid,  thrust  his  nose  deep  into  the  fragrant  vessel,  and 
— ^a  snort  that  a  wild  buffalo  might  be  supposed  to  make,  followed, 
^own  to  the  floor  went  the  jar,  and  over  the  counter  went  Hawkeye, 
commencing  a  series  of  leaping,  rolling  and  tumbling  that  would  have 
done  honor  to  a  circus  performer,  blowing  at  his  nose,  giving  forth 
tremendous  snorts,  and  demolishing  everything  in  his  way.  Hie 
fumes  from  the  broken  jar  drove  us  out  of  doors,  and  I  left  him  sit- 
ting on  a  post,  alternately  eyeing  the  door  and  clearing  his  olfiictory. 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH  WEST.  219 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH-WEST. 


BT  OILBXRT  HATH  AW  AT,  K8Q.,  Or  LAPOSTB,  I  A. 


CHAPITER  IV. 


At  the  death  of  his  master  he  was  made  tree.  He  had  resided  at 
Washington  twenty  years,  and  was  keeping  a  livery  stable,  at  which 
basineas  he  was  doing  pretty  well.  He  owned  five  horses,  two  hacks, 
a  fine  buggy,  and  eighty  acres  of  land  lying  near  the  town. 

He  was  married,  but  his  wife  was  a  slave ;  her  master  resided  seven 
miles  fi"om  the  village.  He  had  five  children ;  but  by  the  law  of  the 
land,  they  were  all  slaves.  Before  he  was  married,  the  owner  of  his 
•wife  told  him  if  he  married  the  girl  he  would  free  her  at  his  death. 
But  says  he,  her  master  is  dead,  and  "  some  how  my  wife  is  yet  a 
flkve,  and  my  children  are  slaves.  I  do  not  think  they  do  quite  right. 
Her  present  owner  says  he  will  set  her  fr^e  one  of  these  days ;  but  it 
.seems  to  me  as  if  he  was  not  a  goin^  to  do  it.  But  then  my  wife  is 
only  a  house  servant — she  has  pretty  easy  times,  and  none  of  my 
children  have  to  work  in  the  field." 

About  ten  miles  from  town  we  overtook  an  emigrant  w^on  broken. 
Some  time  before  I  reached  the  spot,  1  heard  the  waitings  and  moan- 
ings  of  a  person  in  deep  distress.  As  I  approached  1  saw  a  woman  in 
the  wildest  state  of  excitement,  making  the  most  piteous  cries  and 
lamentations.  From  the  husband,  a  good  easy  soul,  I  ascertained, 
that  the  hind  axletree  of  the  wagon  had  broken,  and  in  its  fell,  had 
•eaught  their  child,  a  little  girl  of  ten  summers,  beneath  it,  and  he  sup- 
posed she  was  dying.  When  Charles  stopped  the  "  hack,"  the  mother 
most  piteously  besought  me  for  aid,  to  save  her  child.  It  was  her 
".  twin,"  her  ".twin  child,"  and  she  "  could  not  leave  it."  Here  she 
would  burst  out  in  prayer  to  God,  in  the  most  inconsolable  grief  and 
agony  and  distress  of  mind,  asking  assistance. 

I  approached  a  heap  of  ragged  quilts  lying  on  the  ground.  After 
removing  many  thicknesses,— enough  to  have  smothered  an  uninjured 
person — ^I  discovered  the  object  of  my  search,  a  little  girl,  apparently 
In  some  pain,  but  certainly  not  in  as  daugerons  condition  as  imagined 
by  her  parents.  The  mother  came  near,  and  for  a  few  moments  con- 
sented to  be  sufficiently  calm  to  answer  a  few  ((uestions ;  then  again 


SiO  TRAVKIiS  IN  THE  SOUTH  WEST. 


she  would  burst  forth  in  wild,  and  really  quite  irantic  lamentfttioDs, 
beseeching  the  doctor,  as  she  called  me,  to  save  her  child  from  dying. 

From  the  examination  I  gave,  I  concluded  there  were  no  bones  bro> 
ken,  and  no  cause  for  so  much  alarm.  Having  my  traveling  case  of 
medicinCvS  with  me,  1  prepared  a  preBcription,  and  with  the  direction 
of  free  applications  oi  cold  water  to  the  parts  aflfected,  1  took  my  leave, 
in  the  full  belief  that  the  child  would  s})eedily  recover,  and  the  dioicest 
blessings  tlieir  grateful  hearts  could  conc-eive,  a  bomiteous  heaven  was 
implored  to  shower  uj>on  my  head. 

Our  way  lay  over  much  such  ooiniti-y  as  1  have  described  to  you. 
In  the  course  of  three  houi-s  we  reached  lied  Uiver,  at  a  ieri'y,  which  of 
late  has  become  somewhat  noted,  fix)m  the  first,  that  it  is  the  plaoe 
where  the  (^iro  and  Texas  road  will  probably  cross  that  stream. 

[t  was  something  past  the  hour  of  mid  day,  when  1  came  in  sight  of 
the  ferruginous  waters  of  that  much  noted  river.  The  early  breakJ&st, 
cool  air  of  the  morning,  and  excitement  on  the  route,  all  tended  to 
sharpen  my  appetite,  which  at  most  times  may  be  considered  good^ 
Travelers  in  this  latitude  at  this  season  of  the  year,  ai*e  in  the  habit  of 
taking  no  meal  at  this  hour,  or  of  feeding  their  horses,  preterring  to 
make  their  drives  between  meals.  I  expected  to  have  done  so,  but  on 
reaching  the  ferry — finding  it  would  be  some  time  before  we  cK>u]d 
cross,  in  a»nsequcnce  of  the  number  of  emigrants  in  advance  of  u»— 
I  was  induced  to  return  from  the  btmk  of  the  river  a  tew  steps,  to  * 
building  where  1  had  observed  a  small  dia^uond  shaped  board,  on  the 
top  of  a  leaning  pole,  some  forty  feet  in  the  air,  with  the  significant 
marks  of  1  N  N  rudely  painted  thereon.  1  stepped  through  theopefi 
casement,  and  was  met  by  a  red-headeil  woman,  of  rather  slovenly 
appeai*ance,  to  whom  I  midressed  the  inquiry  if  I  could  have  dinner 
served  in  a  few  moments,  as  1  did  not  wish  to  lose  ray  turn  in  cross* 
ing  the  river,  to  which  she  replied  "1  reckon.''  Dina,  the  waiting 
woman,  made  sundry  evolutions  and  quick  girations,  indicating  great 
haste ;  and  in  a  ishort  time  1  was  requested  to  take  a  seat,  tor  dinner 
was  ready.  It  was  past  the  usual  hour,  the  eloth  was  still  spread,  and 
the  confused  remains  of  the  meal  upon  it.  . 

When  1  was  seated,  the  woman  tiret  addressed  asked  if  1  would  take 
a  bit  of  beef,  or  a  cut  from  the  roast  Ijear  meat.  I  took  the  latter,  and 
for  the  first  time  made  a  meal,  the  principal  part  of  which  was  from  a 
portion  of  old  bruin ;  tor  really,  to  tell  the  truth,  there  was  but  little 
else  on  the  table — ^nothing  in  tiict,  save  a  half  cooked  sweet  potaloei 
and  a  half  baked  com  meal  ash  cake,  all  of  which  1  relished  quite  weU» 
Are  bears  plenty  in  these  parts,  I  uiquired.  '*  There  are  a  heap  taken 
just  now,  but  sometimes  they  are  scarce,  and  then  the  people  suffer 


RED  RIVER  BOTTOMS.  281 


powerfully,"  was  the  reply.  Do  you  rely  upon  it  as  an  article  of 
food  ?  "  Some  years,  when  the  mast  is  good,  it  is  about  the  only  meat 
we  have." 

We  were  ferried  in  the  usual  way  of  crossing  Southern  streams.    A 
rope  is  stretched  across,  by  the  means  of  which  a  long  scow,  on  which 
^  die  freight  is  deposited,  is  pulled  over. 

Now  commenced  the  difficult  part  of  our  journey,  of  crossing  Red 
River  bottom,  sixteen  miles  through  the  cane-brakefi|.  For  some  dis* 
tance  w^e  passed  on  ground  near  the  bank  of  the  river,  at  this  dry  sea> 
son,  not  very  objectionable,  the  principal  impediment  arising  from 
large  projecting  roots  and  fallen  trees.  In  some  places,  however,  the 
cane  thickets  were  so  dense  that  it  was  with  great  difficulty  we  got 
through.  The  road  was  but  very  imperfectly  cut  out,  at  best,  and 
in  many  instances  so  completely  blocked  up  with  prostrate  timber, 
that  ^e  were  obliged  to  cut  our  way  through  the  thicket,  while,  m 
othei*8,  where  a  way  had  been  partially  cleared,  the  stubble  of  the  cane 
had  been  left  standing  six  or  eight  inches  high,  rendering  it  very  annoy- 
ing to  the  horses,  and  a  ride  over  it  anything  but  agreeable.    ^ 

You  will  understand  that  the  cane  of  which  I  speak,  is  what  is  known 
in  your  city  under  the  name  of  reed,  of  which  bird  cages  are  made^ 
and  universally  adopted  for  fishing  poles.  It  grows  here  very  luxuri- 
antly ;  it  stands  very  thick  upon  the  ground,  and  in  some  instances 
attains  the  height  of  from  twenty  to  thirty-five  feet.  In  many  places 
it  will  be  so  dense  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  get  through. '  In 
these  places  the  bear  takes. shelter,  when  hotly  pdrsued  by  the  hunter 
and  his  dogs.  From  his  great  strength  old  bruin  is  able  to  jnake  his 
way,  and  when  wounded,  make  a  more  successful  defence. 

The  bottom  land  is  covered  with  a  rich  growth  of  cotton  wood, 
black  walnut,  hack  berry,  gum  of  various  kinds,  and  also  the  different 
varieties  of  the  haw.  The  soil  i%>  exceedingly  pnx^uctive,  and  utterly 
inexhaustible.  A  person  owning  a  plantation  in  this  bottom,  well 
stocked,  can  raise  more  cotton  than  he  can  dispose  of,  for  no  matter 
how  great  **  a  force"  he  may  have,  he  will  "  make  "  more  than  than  he 
can  gather. 

The  land,  however,  is  subject  to  overflow,  and  must  be  leveed  be- 
fore it  can  be  cultivated  with  any  prudent  degree  of  safety ;  besides,  it< 
is  said  to  be  very  sickly ;  and  this  remark  needs  no  further  proof  to 
obtain  belief,  than  to  see  it,  for  where  there  is  so  rich  a  growth  of  veg* 
etation  on  low  land,  exposed  to  the  rays  of  a  Southern  sun,  the  mab^ 
ria  consequent  thereon,  must  produce  ill  health  to  all  who  are  exposed 
to  its  influence. 

The  planter^  understand  this  matter  perfectly,  and  provide  aeoor 


582  TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH  WEST. 

dinglj.  Most  of  those  who  have  plantations  here,  reside  elsewhere, 
in  states  further  north,  or  on  the  sand  hills  in  the  neighborhood,  deem- 
ing it  prudent  to  leave  the  negroes  only  to  occupy  the  bottoms,  they 
being  so  organized  as  to  endure  a  life  in  a  miasmatic  region,  where  a 
white  person  would  soon  tind  his  grave.  Should  the  planter  occasion- 
ally lose  a  boy  from  this  cause,  he  concludes  he  can  well  afford  it,  bj 
the  richer  returns  from  his  labor  over  what  he  would  realize  in  more 
healthy  regions  where  the  soil  would  be  light. 

Ten  miles  of  the  sixteen,  which  would  take  us  through  the  bottom, 
had  been  passed,  when  we  reached  the  low  or  lake  lands,  as  they  are 
called,  and  which,  at  no  season,  however  dry,  are  free  from  water. 

It  is  a  little  remarkable  that  the  land  on  all  streams  in  alluvial  dis- 
tricts, is  much  higher  near  the  bank  than  it  is  a  short  distance  back. 
Near  the  hills,  there  is  always  a  low  country  of  greater  or  lesser  extent, 
which  is  either  covered  with  water,  or  soft  and  marshy.*  So  here  we 
were,  in  the  midst  of  this  slough,  wliich,  i^t  this  particular  place,  was 
about  five  miles  in  width.  Just  imagine  our  surging  from  root  to 
root,  plowing  through  the  mud  and  water,  our  horses  floundering 
along,  sometimes  on  their  knees,  and  then  down  completely  on  their 
sides,  night  approaching,  and'  angry  clouds  threatening  rain.  To 
"  break  down,"  under  such  circumstances,  would  be  dreadful,  for  we 
were  very  illy  prepared  for  "  camping  out."  That  no  such  calamity  be- 
&11  us  was  my  devout  wish,  yet  we  were  exposed  to  it  every  moment. 
The  road  became  more  rough,  and  the  mud  and  water  more  abun- 
dant every  step. 

It  was  I  now  quite  dark,  so  dark  that  we  could  see  our  way  but  a 
short  distance  before  us,  and  the  big  drops,  precursors  of  a  heavy! 
shower,  came  pattering  around  us.     Still  we  went  plunging  through, 
when  suddenly  we  were  brought  to  a  halt,  by  one  of  the  fore  wheels 
giving  way,  and  letting  the  fore  part  of  our  hack  into  the  mud. 

About  this  time  the  clouds  opened  and  poured  out  their  richest 
showers  upon  our  devoted  heads.  Surely,  thinks  I,  here  is  a  dilemma. 
Addressing  myself  to  Charles,  I  inquired  what  was  to  be  done?  ^'  Iior 
Gody,  massa,  tis  beyond  my  comprensidn  to  tell,"  was  his  reply. 

Knowing  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  if  we  wished  to  get  through 
the  swamp  before  midnight,  it  became  necessary  to  reconnoitre,  ascer- 
tain the  damage  we  had  sustained,  and  if  possible  make  repairs  and 
go  on.  Accordingly  1  got  into  the  mud,  which  was  not  far  from  two 
feet  in  depth,  and  in  a  moment  ascertained  that  we  had  broken  one 
wheel  se  badly  tliat  it  would  be  quite  out  of  the  question  to  repair  it ; 


*For  explanaUon  of  this,  tee  "  Land  of  the  Pyramids,"  Chap,  xz  in  No.  4,  pag«  170,  of  tiiis 
Migfttlnet  first  and  laat  p^ragrapha. — ^Bo. 


[• 


A  &AD  PLIOHT.  •  283 


some  of  the  spokes  were  broken,  and  most  of  them  loosened  from  the 
felly.  The  circumstances  seemed  quite  inauspicious  for  repairing  as 
great  a  break  as  this,  and  to  move  without  it  was  impossible.  No 
alternative  seemed  to  present  but  what  we  must  remain  in  our  present 
situation  till  morning,  with  the  hope  that  her  cheeiing  rays  might 
point  out  some  method  of  extrication  from  our  sad  position.  Thanks 
to  a  dgar  friend  at  home,  who  had  provided  nie  with  matches  and  a 
few  small  wax  candles,  to  be  used  in  emergencies  like  this,  I  was  in  a 
measure  prepared  for  the  emergency.  These  were  brought  from  the 
pocket  of  my  leather  sack,  and  made  to  perform  their  office.  By  the 
dim  and  flickering  light  of  ii\^  taper  candle,  I  sought  a  "spot  of  earth," 
safBciently  elevated  above  the  water  to  admit  of  building  a  fire.  The 
task  was  not  the  most  agreeable  one  that  could  be  imagined.  It  was 
very  dark,  the  wind  rushed  through  the  trees  with  a  terrific  sweep, 
the  limbs  of  which  were  cracking  and  falling  about  us.  Standing  to 
my  knees  in  water,  with  the  rain,  at  intervals,  coming  down  upon  me 
in  sheets,  as  the  wind  ebbed  and  swayed,  looking  for  a  hillock,  I  would 
have  presented  to  the  mind  of  a  beholder,  a  scene  truly  ludicrous,  and 
I  confess,  notwithstanding  ray  plight,  1  was,  at  times,  disposed  to 
laugh. 

Some  time  was  spent  in  a  fruitless  search,  and  when  about  to  return 
to  the  wagon,  with  the  view  of  making  the  night  therein  as  comforta- 
ble as  1  could,  I  discovered  in  the  dim  distance,  the  light  of  a  camp 
fire. 

I  lost  no  time  in  communicating  this  intelligence  to  Charles,  who 
had  remained  by  his  horses.  They  were  soon  detached  from  the  wagon, 
and  with  them  we  M-ent  in  pursuit  of  the  light  in  the  swamp.  In  less 
than  a  half  a  mile  we  came  to  the  camp  of  an  emigrant  company, 
bound  for  Western  Texas.  VVe  found  them  with  comfortable  tents, 
protecting  them  from  the  stonn,  pitched  on  an  elevated  piece  of 
ground,  with  a  fire  burning  near  the  door  of  each.  The  company  con- 
sisted of  four  or  five  wagons,  drawn  by  mules,  which  were  tied  to  trees 
near  by,  quietly  eating  their  com  and  fodder,  notwithstanding  the 
storm. 

Our  situation  was  made  known  to  the  emigants  who  eagerly  came 
up  to  hear  the  recital  of  our  tale.  Quarters  were  offered  me,  which  I 
gladly  and  very  thankfijlly  accepted ;  Charles  was  provided  for  by 
the  servants  of  the  party,  two  of  whom,  with  Charles,  volunteered  to 
return  to  the  wagon  and  bring  up  my  luggage.  This  done,  and  the 
horses  furnished  .with  provender,  of  which  our  kind  friends  had  a 
goodly  supply ;  and  after  partaking  heartily  of  roasted  venison  and 
com  bread,  set  before  me  on  the  ground  in  my  tent,  I  betook  myself 


284  A  TRAVELS  IN  THB  SOUTH  WBST. 


to  sleep,  on  a  bed  inade  of  ^een  boughs  of  the  cypress,  to  keep  me 
from  the  daiiip  earth,  over  which  I  spread  my  jSfexican  poticho,  using 
my  leather  sack  for  a  pillow,  aiid  my  large  traveling  ooat  as  a  oov^- 
ing,  which  one  of  the  negro  servants  had  partially  dried,  while  1  had 
been  regaling  myself  <ju  the  luxuries  just  mentioned.  Thus  arranged, 
with  my  feet  t-ow- ards  the  fire,  which  glowed  near  the  open  end  of  the 
tent,  1  was  s(X)n  lost  in  dreams  ot  pleasant  vales  "by  the  side  of  still 
waters,"  surrounded  by  ministering  angels  of  sweetness  and  peace. 

!n  the  morning  which  was  bright  and  clear,  1  found  my  entertainer 
to  be  a  Tennessee  planter,  with  his  family,  consisting  of  wife,  two 
daughter's  and  their  husbands,  and  one  daughter,  a  brilliant  blonde  of 
.some  eighteen  summers,  whose  smiling  face  knew  no  care,  and  whose 
bright  eye  seeme*^  to  court  adventure  and  frolic,  and  to  whom  the  dis- 
iisters  of  such  a  night  us  we  had  just  passed,  had  no  terrors :  together 
with  a  large  family  of  negroes,  both  old  and  young,  and  of  all  variety 
of  shade  and  htie.  I  Ic  was  e>vidently  of  tlie  better  class  of  cotton 
growers,  and  was  seeking  to  benefit  the  condition  of  his  sons  in  law, 
by  settluig  on  the  virgin  soil  of  this  State.  Their  destination  was 
west  of  the  (^)lorado. 

it  was  a^scert'iiiied  tl\»it  f>ur  whe^l  was  so  badly  damaged  that 
notliing  short  of  the  skill  of  a  professed  w^heel-wright  could  restore  it 
to  use.  From  a  passer  by  1  learned,  that  a  boy  belonging  to  a  plant- 
er, tliree  miles  distant,  made  some  pretensions  in  that  line,  and  thither 
(diaries  started  with  the  damaged  wheel,  both  being  mounted  on  one  of 
the  horses.  It  w  tus  late  in  the  morning  before  the  emigrant  party  could 
be  got  in  motion.  My  host  gave  me  an  invitation  to  take  a  seat  in 
his  wagon,  and  Uj  accompany  them  to  their  place  of  destination,  that 
I  might  share  their  fare,  and  be  as  one  of  them, — ^adding,  that  inas- 
much as  he  had  not  yet  bought  his  land,  and  1  had  been  over  the  par- 
ticular region  in  which  he  intended  to  settle,  1  might  be  of  service  to 
him  in  making  a  desirable  selection.  In  which  request  he  was  second- 
ed by  his  wife,  who  expressed  much  solicitude  in  regard  to  my  health, 
fearing  that  a  fever  might  be  the  result  of  the  exposure  of  the  pre- 
vious night,  and  then,  in  such  a  cas^  she  remarked,  '^  who  in  this  land 
of  inhospitality  and  strangers,  will  take  care  of  you  ?  "  I  felt  the  force 
of  this  evidence  of  good  will,  and  would  gladly  have  accepted  the 
kind  oflor,  had  it  been  consistent  with  previous  arrangements.  As  it 
was,  I  took  a  seat  with  them  to  ride  to  the  fii*st  house  we  might  come 
to  on  the  road,  which  was  understood  to  be  six  miles  distant,  situate 
on  the  first  ridge  afler  Uiaving  the  b<ittt)m. 

It  was  twelve  o^clock  when  we  reached  the  house  spoken  of.     Here 
I  took  leave  of  my  hospitable  friends,  witJi  many  regrets  at  so  early  a 


A  SAD  LKAVK-TAKING.  286 


separation,  and  many  thanks  for  kind  attention.  I  watched  them,  as 
their  wagons  wound  slowly  out  of  sight,  amid  the  "  post  oaks "  by 
which  they/ were  surrounded,  with  a  sad  and  heavy  heart.  And  when 
the  last  white  canvass  top  which  covered  them  was  lost  to  my  aching 
vision,  I  turned  with  depressed  spirits  and  slow  step  to  the  house, 
taking  a  seat  by  a  dull  fire  which  smouldered  in  the  st(x*k  chimney.  I 
watched  the  blue  smoke  as  it  curled  to  the  top.  with  a  sort  of  pleasing 
melancholy.         • 

The  inhabitant  of  this  place  was  a  member  of  tht*  medical  profes- 
sion, a  disciple  of  Galen,  originally  from  Kentucky,  but  who  had  re- 
sided several  years  in  the  State  of  TiOuisianji,  in  the  practice  of  his 
profession.  Tlie  day  was  cool  and  1  remained  by  the  fire,  or  rather, 
by  the  place  where  the  lire  ought  to  have  been,  reading  a  new  book 
purchased  at  Memphis.  The  evening  passed  slowly,  with  no  incident 
worthy  of  mention,  till  near  the  hour  of  the  evening  meal.  The  ser- 
vant had  spread  the  cloth,  most  of  the  dishes  were  set,  and  a  few  of 
the  viands  placed  on  the  table.  The  sun  had  some  time  since  gone  to 
his  lurid  bed  in  the  far  off  west, — darkness  was  gathering,  casting 
sombre  shades  over  surrounding  objects.  In  a  half  dreamy  state  of 
mind,  I  sat  dosing  in  the  capacious  comer,  where  the  slowly  burning 
brands  cast  a  fitful  light  through  the  gloomy  apartment,  when  a  huge 
bear  !  kept  as  a  pet,  with  three-  yards  of  chain  attached  to  his  neck,. 
made  his  appearance  through  the  open  casement,  and  with  great  delibe- 
ration approached  -the  table,  raistnl  upon  his  hind  feet,  placing  his 
large  paws  upon  it,  carefully  removed  from  the  plate  a  bit  of  roast 
venison,  with  whi(fh  he  quickly  retreated  out  of  the  door.  No  person 
was  in  the  room  at  the  time  but  myself,  and  I  watched  his  movements 
with  some  alarm  and  regret,  for  1  did  not  know  but  what,  if  discov- 
ered, he  might  prefer  me  to  roast  meat,  and  then  I  had  other  interests 
at  stake,  for  having  fasted  during  the  day,  a  supper  of  venison  would 
be  a  rich  tre^it,  the  prospect  of  which  was  completi^ly  destroyed  by 
his  deliberate  movements.  But  in  this  feeling  none  of  the  family 
seemed  to  participate,  the  result  of  taste  doubtless,  prefering  "  roast 
shoat "  to  any  other  meat.  For  when  the  subject  was  mentioned  at 
the  table,  no  remark  was  elicited,  all  seemed  satisfied  with  what  was 
left  by  his  bearship.  And  I  assure  you,  I  was  disposed  to  make  a 
virtue  of  necessity,  relishing  the  shoat  much  better  than  I  could  have 
done  under  different  circumstances. 

About  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  I  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  ap- 
proaching. Charles  made  his  appearance,  having  had  all  the  neces- 
sary repairs  made,  so  that  we  should  be  able  to  pursue  our  journey  iu 
thd  morning. 


286  TRABLS  IN  THE  SOUTH  WEST. 


The  evening  was  passed  in  conversation  witti'  the  Doctor,  who  had 
returned  from  a  visit  to  a  rich  patient  about  eighteen  miles  distant.' 
He  entertained  me  with  a  description  of  the  country  about  him,  the 
character  of  the  inhabitants,  and  the  best  methods  of  hunting  deer,,  in 
which  I  concluded  he  had  been  quite  successful,  having  killed  forty- 
seven  since  the  hunting  season  commenced.  lie  adopted  the  fire 
hunt  entirely,  consequently  engaged  in  that  sport  during  the  night 
time  only.  , 

Having  spent  most  of  your  time  iu  a  large  city,^ou  may  be  inter- 
ested in  a  description.  1  will  give  it.  It  seems  something  after  thjs 
Avisc  :  •'  1  take  a  boy  with  me,"  said  he,  (by  which  he  means  a  negro 
of  any  a^e)  we  are  both  on  horse  bat*k.  The  boy  carries  what  we 
term  a  'jack,'  in  which  he  has  a  blazing  fire  made  of  'light  wood.' 
By  slowly  passing  through  those  portions  of  the  bottom,  deer  are 
known  to  frequent,  we  soon  discover  their  eyes,  for  when  they  see  the 
light  they  look  at  it  with  wondering  gaze,  until  you  approach  within 
dose  gun  shot.  1  then  take  the  jack,  the  liandle  of  which  1  rest  on 
my  right  shoulder,  with  the  light  behind  mo,  on  the  end  of  the  handle, 
before  me  there  is  a  small  phice  arranged  so  as  to  rest  my  gun,  by 
the  light  of  the  blazing  wood  1  am  enabled  to  take  deliberate  aim,  the 
night  may  be  ever  so  dai*k,  the  eyes  of  the  animal  afford  me  a  beau- 
tiful mark,  which  1  seldom  miss." 

Tie  informed  me  that  bcAr  were  plenty  in  the  bottom,  but  he  never 
engaged  in  hunting  them.  They  were  so  numerous  by  times,  as  to 
be  very  destructivti  to  corn,  and  very  fatal  to  the  younger  and  fiittest 
members  of  his  herds  of  swine,  which  frequented  the  low  grounds  in 
pursuit  of  nuts  and  roots.  lie  Lad  a  neighbor  who  hunted  bear  a 
great  doiil.  lie  had  a  pack  of  hounds  and  was  quite  successftil  in  the 
sport  some  years. 

There  being  a  fine  range  here  for  cattle  in  winter  as  well  as  sum 
mer,  the  Dr.  hopes  in  a  short  time  to  make  much  money  by  raising 
that  kind  of  stock.  With  yankee  cleverness,  he  has  reduced  the  matter 
to  great  certainty.  He  supposed  that  from  his  practice  as  a  physician 
at  two  dollars  per  mile,  in  visiting  his  patients,  he  will  realize  money 
enough  for  support,  and  add  occasionally  a  few  young  cattle  to  his 
stock,  which  together  with  what  he  now  has,  in  a  few  years,  from  the 
natural  increase,  a  fine  fortune  Will  be  realized.  They  require  no 
feeding  during  any  season  of  the  year,  and  the  only  care  he  need  be- 
stow on  them  will  be  to  mark  and  brand  the  calves  in  the  spring 
season,  in  order  that  he  may  know  them  from  those  of  other  people, 
whose  stock  may  frequent  the  same  range. 

The  day  having  been  rather  an  eventful  one,  its  fatigue  prediq)Osed 


MODEL  DWELLING  HOUSE.  28^? 

me  to  Weep.  Not  long  after  Charles  returned,  I  retired  to  the  sleep- 
ing apartment,  hoping  to  be  ready  for  an  early  start  on  the  morrow. 
This  apartment  is  one  end  of  the  "  double  cabin,"  the  usual  construc- 
tion of  cabins  in  this  country.  Two  pens  of  logs,  sometimes  they  are 
hewed,  but  in  most  instances  they  are  not;  built  up  to  the  proper 
height,  (very  much  after  the  manner  of  a  child's  cob  house)  say  nine 
feet,  within  about  twelve  feet  of  each  other,  one  roof  is  made  to  cover 
both,  and  the  passage  way  between  them,  which  serves  as  a  hall ;  a 
diimney  is  placed  at  each  end,  usually  built  of  sticks  laid  in  mud, 
and  the  jams  of  the  fire  place  formed  of  a  thick  coating  of  that  mate- 
rial. In  places  where  stones  can  be  produced,  they  will  bo  made  use 
of  for  that  purpose,  but  all  is  rough  and  unsightly.  The  cracks  or 
crevices  between  the  logs  are  filled  with  split  sticks,  and  plastered  or 
daubed  on  the  outside  and  in  with  mud.  Tii6  roof  is  compose4  of 
bits  of  timber  split  thin,  and  laid  on  rough  rafters,  and  kept  in  their 
places  by  means  of  poles  laid  lengthways.  >  ITie  floor  is  made  of  the 
same  material,  only  somewhat  thicker,  called  puncheons.  This  sort 
of  structure,  you  will  observe,  makes  a  house !  with  two  rooms  and  a 
hall,  from  which  the  rooms  are  usually  entered ;  when  large  and  well 
built,  they  are  not  uncomfortable  dwellings.  Hut  in  the  South,  it  of- 
ten happens  there  is  no  chinking  or  filling  up.between  the  logs,  as  a 
substitute,  clap  boards  are  sometimes  nailed  over  the  appertures, 
which  arrangement  affords  fine  opportunity  for  the  north  wind  to 
whistle  its  chilling  lays  through  into  the  apartments.  But  a  South- 
erner does  not  appear  to  care  whether  hi&  house  is  made  warm  and 
comfortable  or  not,  or  whether  the  door  is  closed,  so  long  as  he  can 
have  a  few  "  chunks  "  smouldering  on  the  hearth. 

One  of  these  rooms  is  used  as  the  living  room  tor  the  family,  and 
the  other  as  the  sleeping  apartment.  Into  this  I  entered,  my  bed- 
stead was  after  the  fashion  of  the  countrv.  Notches  are  cut  in  the 
logs  which  form  the  side  of  the  room,  at  six  and  four  feet  each  way 
from  the  comer,  into  which  poles  arc  placed,  running  out  each  way 
the  same  distance,  where  they  rest  on  a  short  post  of  two  feet  in 
heighth,  the  lower  end  being  fastened  to  the  floor ;  across  these  poles, 
others  of  smaller  size  are  placed,  the  inner  end  resting  on  similar ' 
notches,  and  the  other  on  the  pole  first  mentioned.  On  this  frame- 
work, a  rack  of  husks  or  hay  is  thrown,  over  which  is  sometimes 
placed  one  of  feathers,  much  noted  for  the  scarcity  of  filling  material. 
It  was  on  a  bed  of  this  description  1  was  told  I  could  rest  for  the 
night. 

Fitftil  dreams  visited  my  slumbers  ;  my  brain  was  feverish,  a  re- 
sult of  the  mishap  of  the  previous  night ;  and  1  seemed  to  be  climb- 


tSS  TRAVBI^  IK  TUJS  SOUTH  WEST. 

ing  steep  and  rugged  mountaiiis ;  then  I  was  surrounded  by  pit&ls 
and  ambuscades.  I  was  about  to  fall  from  a  high  embankment  into  a 
deep,  dark  and  dismal  chasm,  when  sure  enough  I  was  awakened  by 
the  reality  of  a  fall.  Some  of  the  crosspoles  of  my  bedstead,  spring- 
ing out  of  place,  let  my  head  to  the  floor,  while  my  feet  retained  their 
former  position. 

The  place  seemed  strange  to  me.  The  night  was  dark.  A  strange 
sort  of  frenzy  seized  my  brain.  It  was  some  moments  before  I 
could  sufficiently  arouse  to  convince  myself  that  I  had  not  really  fallen 
into  some  horrible  pit ;  but  when  the  reality  came  fully  to  mind,  and 
I  saw  the  true  situation  of  affairs,  I  concluded  to  make  the  best  of  it, 
and  amid  straw  and  feathers,1)lankets  and  poles,  quietly  disposed  my- 
self to  sleep  again. 

I  was  fortunate  enough  thb  time  to  have  my  quiet  undisturbed  at 
least  an  hour  or  more,  when  1  was  awakened  by  bearing  some  person 
moving  about  the  room,'-^now  he  is  near  the  bed  !  my  imagination  is 
all  alive.  I  evidently  had  my  senses,  yet  1  imagined  many  strange, 
and  I  doubt  not,  very  ab^rd  things,  about  scalpels  and  bludgeons, 
man-traps  and  strangulation,  and  all  in  the  space  of  a  very  short  time. 
Now,  all  was  quiet  again,  surely  there  must  be  ''  some  mistake  hero.*' 
I  cpuld  not  be  awake^ — it  must  be  a  dream,  I  thought,  and  so  settled 
down  into  my  bed  of  conglomeration,  with  the  hope  of  slumber. 

Scarcely  a  moment  had  passed,  before  1  heard  the  chair  on  which  1 
bad  hung  my  clothes,  slowly  move,  as  if  some  one  was  cautiously 
**  removing  what  deposit  "  there  might  happen  to  be  in  the  pockets. 
My  mind  rested  on  a  stalwart  black  boy  I  had  seen  about  the  premi- 
ses before  nightfall.  Now !  I  cquld  distinctly  hear  my  pantaloons  as 
thciy  were  drawn  across  the  chair.  Certain  am  I  that  my  notions 
about  the  designs  of  the  boy  are  correct.  1  suddenly  raise  up  from 
the  weight  of  covering,  and  in  a  stentorian  voice,  demand  who  is 
there  1 


,~> 


nmxat  uf  Crakl 


VOL.  1.]  JULY,  1857.  [NO.  7. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 

BT  BST.  o>o.  DirraaxD,  D.  D. 


y  OHAPTBfi  Xn. 

College  at  La  Jbur. 

The  College  at  La  Tour  is  a  living  monument,  destined  to  shed  the 
lustre  and  benefit  of  a  noble  mind  and  generous  heart,  upon  ooming 
generations.  Nor  will  it  confine  its  radiance  merely  to  this  world. 
Would  that  men  of  ample  means  were  actuated  by  the  like  holy  ambi- 
tion of  doing  good  to  their  fellow  men,  by  a  well  directed  liberality, 
forming  fountains  of  light  and  truth  and  redeeming  influence  in  tlda 
wretched  fallen  world.  ^ 

It  has  the  nucleus  of  a  good  library  already  formed.  I  noticed 
among  other  other  valuable  works,  the  Fren<^  edition  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical fathers,  the  English  edition  of 'the  classics,  &c.*,  which  had  been 
presented  by  friends  of  the  institution.  The  students  board  and  lodge 
with  fiimilies  residing  in  the  village,  and  not  in  commons,  and  are  thus 
kept  under  the  influence  and  restraints  of  the  household  and  the  home. 
There  is  a  mellowing  virtue  in  domestic  society,  where,  as  in  this  place, 
the  families  generally  are  pious.  It  is  just  what  the  young  mind  and 
heart  need.  Nothing  can  compensate  for  the  want  of  it.  I  have  often 
thought  that  the  plan  of  herding  youth  together  in  commons,  making 
the  members  of  a  college,  as  it  were,  a  gregarious  mass,  cut  loose  frowL 
domestic  sympathies  and  social  ties,  binding  them  to  the  mass  of 
society  around,  and  kept  like  a  flock  within  walls,  to  be  watched  and 
driven  by  tutors  and  profesaprs,  as  mere  inspectors  and  governors,  and 
not  as  friends  and  guardians,  the  substitutes  and  representatives  of 
parents,  may  be  one  great  reasoii  why  lads  in  our  American  colleges, 
are  found  so  troublesome,  so  difficult  to  govern,  and  are  so  frequently 
turned  into  the  community,  afler  a  four  years  course  of  study,  with 
unsociable  and  dissipated  habits ;  and  with  rough  and  boorish  manners, 
that  render  them  consdoualy  awkward  and  unfitted  for  genteel  com- 
pany. 

VOL.  I,  NO,  vn — 19. 


890  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TBAVEL. 


We  passed  &om  room  to  room,  and  visited  the  different  forma  or 
classes,  and  with  much  pleasure  spent  a  short  time  in  each  conversing 
with  the  professors,  and  occasionally  with  some  of  the  students.  God, 
I  trust,  has  something  good  for  many  of  these  precious  youth  to  do  in 
spreading  the  gospel  in  their  own  wild  Alpine  country,  and  the  r^bns 
beyond.  Many  of  them  are  pious,  and  some  are  being  educated  by 
benevolent  aid  from  abroad.  An  English  gentleman,  several  years 
ago,  in  visiting  a  widowed  mother  among  the  Vandois,  during  his  short 
sojourn  at  La  Tour,  ascertained  that  she  was  striving  to  educate  her 
son,  a  pious  lad,  with  a  view  to  his  becoming  a  minister  of  Christ.  He 
became  interested  in  her,  and  especially  in  the  lad  afler  he  had  seen 
him,  from  which  time,  he  has  furnished  funds  to  one  of  the  professors 
regularly,  for  his  education.  The  lad  was  pointed  out  to  us  by  the 
gentleman  who  gave  us  this  information.  I  was  not  surprised  that  he 
should  have  won  the  heart  of  his  English  patron. 

When  the  students  who  design  to  enter  the  ministry  have  finished 
their  collegiate  course,  they  repair  to  the  Theological  Seminary  at 
Geneva,  of  which  Dr.  Merle  d'Aubigne  and  Dr.  Malan,  are  professors. 
The  Vandois  have  no  funds  or  means  for  the  theological  education  of 
their  own  youth,  and  must  derive  aid  from  Switzerland  and  elsewhere. 

After  taking  leave  of  the  collie,  we  visited  the  church.  It  is  a 
new  edifice  but  recently  finished,  and  has  been  built  by  foreign  aid. 
It  is  of  stone,  with  two  small  towers  in  front,  neatly  finished,  plain 
and  capable  of  seating  about  1000  persons,  including  the  gallery.  It 
is  generally  well  filled  upon  the  Sabbath.  I  wished  very  much  that  I 
could  have  tarried  over  the  Sabbath  there. 

The  pastor  of  the  church  took  us  into  the  building,  and  seemed 
pleased  to  give  us  the  information  we  sought.  He  took  me  into  the 
pulpit  and  showed  me  their  Liturgy  and  their  Book  of  Psalms.  The 
former  is  very  short,  simple  and  spiritual ;  the  latter  'contains  the 
"  Psalms  of  David,"  arranged  with  notes  of  music  between  the  lines, 
being  the  airs  of  their  semi-chants. 

During  my  visit  to  the  church,  I  met  a  young  Swiss  from  Geneva,  a 
very  pleasant  young  man,  who  spoke  a  little  English.  He  is  a  rela- 
tive of  the  pastor^s  family,  on  a  friendly  visit  to  them  at  this  time. 
He  said  that  he  was  sketching  a  view  of  the  church  for  an  aunt  of  his  in 
Geneva,  who  takes  a  deep  interest  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  wel&re  of 
the  VandoLB.  The  pastor  resides  in  a  neat,  small  two  story  stone  and 
stuccoed  building,  in  keeping  with  the  finish  of  the  church,  and  closely 
adjacent  to  it.  There  are  five  others,  of  like  character  and  dimensions 
stretofaed  along  a  low  terrace,  with  small  spaces  between  them,  in 
which  the  professors  of  the  college  reside,  and  two  more  renudn  to  be 


HOBPTTAL  AT  LA  TOUR.  291 

"- —  — - — — '^     i 

€reoted  in  order  to  complete  the  entire  plan.  The  stadents  in  the  col- 
lege assemble  for  worship  with  the  congregation  in  the  churoh,  and 
enjoy  the  care  and  benefit  of  the  pastor's  watch  and  counsel.  I  told 
htm  that  many  christians  in  the  United  States  felt  a  deep  interest  in 
his  people,  and  the  Vandois  generally,  and  prayed  much  for  them, 
remembering  their  persecutions  and  confiicts  with  the  Romish  idola- 
tors.  He  said  they  felt  thankful  that  God  had  raised  for  them  friends 
in  such  a  distant  land.  Milton  waked  the  sympathies  of  England,  and 
Cromwell  shamed  and  daunted  t&e  cruel  persecutors  of  this  suffering 
sainted  people*  The  appeal  made  to  the  justice  of  a  retributdve  (jod^ 
long  sitice  by  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ,  awaits  its  &II  and  final 
aooomplishment  at  no  distant  day.  Milton's,  is  but  the  amen  of  every 
pious  heart. 

Avenge,  0  Lord,  thy  sUnghtere^  ndntf ,  whose  bonet, 

Lie  scatter'd  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold ;  ^ 

Kr'n  them  who  kept  thy  truth  so  pure  of  old, 

When  all  our  fathers  worshipped  stocks  and  stones. 
Forget  not;  in  thy  book,  record  their  groans 

Who  were  Thy  sheep,  and  in  their  ancient  fold. 

Slain  by  the  bloody  Piemontese  that  roU'd 

Mother  with  Infant  down  the  rocks.    Their  moans, 
The  vales  redoubl'd  to  the  hU]s,and  they 

To  Heav'n.    Their  martyr'd  blood  and  ashes  sow 

O'er  an  the  Italian  fields,  whe&stiU  doth  sway 
The  triple  tyrant ;  that  firom  these  may  grow 

A  hundred  fold,  who,  having  leam'd  Thy  way, 

■ariy,  may  fly  from  Babylonian  woe. 

After  leaving  the  pastor  we  were  conducted  to  the  hospital.  It  is  a 
commodious  and  well  arranged  building,  with  apartments  for  taking 
care  of  and  nursing  the  sick  and  infirm.  It  is  under  the  care  of  a 
Deaconess,  the  religious  matron  and  presiding  nurse.  It  is  supported 
by  the  community,  provides  nursing  and  medical  advice  and  aid  for 
the  diseased  and  afflicted,  and  is  kept  exceedingly  neat  and  clean.  It 
is  made  the  place  of  resort  by  all  in  the  community,  when  they  become 
sick  and  helpless,  who  find  there  the  care,  medical  advice  and  nursing, 
they  could  not  in  their  own  impoverished  abodes.  The  pastor  visits 
it  on  the  Sabbath,  and  has  religious  exercises  with  the  sick.  I  have 
seldom  been  more  gratified  than  I  have  been  with  this  visit  to  La  Tour, 
and  on  quitting  it,  in  review  of  all  I  had  seen  and  heard  and  read  and 
knew  of  this  poor  people,  through  so  long  a  period,  and  often,  so 
fiercely  persecuted  and  almost  destroyed,  felt  as  if  my  heart  breathed  in 
unison  with  the  sweet  lays  of  Mrs.  Heman,  and  could  and  did, 

Rcjoloe,  that  human  hearts,  through  soorn,  < 

Throtti^  shame,  through  death,  made  strong, 
Before  the  rooks  and  heavens,  have  borne  l!    . 

witness  of  Ood  so  long  ! 


0  NOTES  OF  FORBIdN  TEAVEL. 

Ocioher  ddL  Attended  worship  this  day  in  the  Vandeis  ohnrdi  ift 
Taiin,  and  heard  'Mr,  Bert  The  service  in  the  moming  was  in  French^ 
and  in  the  afternoon  in  the  Ittilian  language.  It  was  a  rainy  day  but 
the  house  was  well  filled. 

October  4ih»  Visited  to-day  the  King's  palace,  and  afterwards 
crossed  the  Po  to  see  the  convent  of  the  Capuchin  monies.  Tliis  order 
is  here  numerous,and  has  amassed  much  property.  They  are  a  dirty  look* 
ing  set^  irho  go  without  covering  to  their  heads  and  with  sandals  to  their 
Aet,  wearing  a  coarse  woolen  dark  colored  garm^it  or  cloak,  tightened- 
on  them  by  a  girdle,  lliey  do  not  wash  themselves,  and  are,  in 
appearance  and  reality,  exceedingly  filtliy.  What  delusion !  as  if 
ofl^tisive  filth  of  person,  could  be  consistent  with  or  indicative  of  a  pure 
and  holy  heart.  '^  Clean  hands  and  a  pure  heart"  are  attributes  of 
those  that  shall  dwell  in  the  holy  hill. 


OHAPTBR  Xm 

OenoOf-^JRaitroad  over  Vie  MouniaiM — Conoersathn  in  (he  DtUgenee-'  P<mie  de 
era — Nice. 

October  6th.  Left  Turin  yesterday  at  nine  and  a  half  A.  M.,  by 
railroad  to  Augusta,  and  thence  by  Diligence  to  Genoa,  where  we 
arrived  at  about  twelve  o'dock  P.  M.  The  last  part  of  the  road,  whioh 
is  some  thirty  miles,  occupied  eight  hours,  being  over  the  maritime 
Alps.  We  began  to  ascend  at  Augusta,  and  continued  so  to  do  for 
fifteen  miles,  descending  the  same  distance  to  Genoa.  The  road  winds 
up  the  mountain  side,  along  the  border  of  a  rapid  torrent  precipitat- 
ing itself  through  the  ever  turning  and  twisting  gorges.  The  govern- 
ment is  constructing  a  railroad  along  side  of  the  road,  and  the  works 
are  of  the  most  costly  and  magnificent  character.  Bridges  are  thrown 
across  the  torrent  supported  on  heavy  piers  and  ardies,  sometimea 
three,  four,  and  five  in  number,  and  rising  forty,  sixty  and  ninety  or 
more  feet.  In  one  place,  where  the  terrace  on  which  the  road  runs,  had 
to  be  widened  toward  the  torrent  to  make  way  for  the  rails,!  counted 
upwards  of  twenty  arches  spiinging  from  piers,  some  twenty  to  thirty 
feet  high,  and  resting  on  a  heavy  battlement  elevated  twenty  feet  or 
more  from  the  margin  of  the  stream.  Some  eight  or  nine  tunnels 
pierce  through  the  jutting  headlands,  where  the  road  could  not  be  car- 
ried round  them  on  terraces.  The  work  is  all  finished  in  the  most 
perfect  manner.  The  bed,  on  which  the  rails  rest,  is  dug  out  from  two 
to  three  feet  deep,  and  filled  up  with  finely  broken  stone,'  on  whioh 


GONVKBSATION  IK  THB  DIUOBNOB. 


iprayel  is  spread  before  the  rails  are  laid.  T^e  sides  of  the  roa^  are 
protected  by  heavy  walls,  secured  bj  copeing  with  massive  pieces  of 
-cut  stone. 

The  number  of  passengers  was  sufficient  to  Hll  the  Diligence.  They 
were  generally  Italians.  In  almost  all  the  cars  in  which  I  had  traveled 
4md  often  in  the  coaches,  I  observed  one  or  more  priests.  In  this, 
however,  there  was  none.  The  conversation  between  some  of  the  pas- 
sengers, which  was  carried  on  in  Italian,  became  in  the  progress  of  our 
journey,  very  animated  and  exciting.  I  could  not  understand  the  Ian- 
^ugewell  enough  to  catch  the  drift  of  the  remarks,  but  sufficiently  to 
perceive  that  politics  formed  the  topic  A  very  fine  looking  and  intel- 
ligent Italian  gentleman,  who  seemed  to  take  the  lead  in  the  conversa- 
tion, became  occasionally  very  warm.  In  the  progress  of  his  remarks, 
he  broke  forth  in  the  English  language,  expressing  himself  with  great 
violence,  in  reference  to  the  question  at  that  time  producing  much 
excitement  in  Sardinia,  viz :  the  action  of  the  Roman  court  in  reference 
to  the  Sardinian  parliament's  legislation  on  the  subject  of  marriage. 

The  contest  turns  between  the  claims  of  the  priesthood  exclusively  to 
solemnize  the  rites  of  marriage,  on  the  plea  of  its  being  a  religious 
4acnunent,  and  the  popular  demand  that  it  be  regarded  and  provided  for, 
by  the  laws  of  the  country  as  a  civil  affair.  Resistance  to  the  claims 
of  Rome  has,  thus  far,  been  very  bold  and  determined.  The  tone  and 
spirit  of  this  gentleman's  remarks  excited  my  surprise,  and  at  a  conve- 
nient opportunity,  I  intimated  it  to  him.  He  perceived  that  I  was  an 
American,  and  having  remarked,  that  I  was  surprised  to  hear,  him 
express  himself  in  a  stage  coach  in  Sardinia,  so  freely  in  reference  to 
priestly  rule,  he  replied,  that  he  was  a  member  of  the  Sardinian  par- 
liament, and  expressed  himself  as  freely  before  t/,  as  he  did  now  in 
the  Diligence.  In  the  most  unqualified  and  bitter  terms  he  denounced 
the  influence  of  the  priesthood,  and  concluded  by  expressing  it,  as  his 
solemn  conviction,  that  liberty  would  never  be  successfully  and  perma- 
nently established  in  Sardinia,  till  the  throats  of  the  priests  were  cut 
"  They,"  said  he,  "  are  the  enemies  of  liberty,  and  if  it  perishes,  they 
will  be  its  murderers."  In  further  conversation,  I  found  him  very 
sanguine  in  his  hopes  for  the  future  of  his  country.  Expressing  my 
doubts  and  fears,  arising  both  from  the  isolated  position  of  Sardinia  in 
Cbntinental  Europe  as  a  Constitutional  Monarchy,  and  from  the  jeal- 
ousy and  hostility  of  the  Absolute  Sovereigns  in  relation  to  popular 
freedom,  and  more  especially,  from  its  proxiijiity  to  France — which 
would,  evidently  to  me,  very  soon  cease  to  be  a  republic,  even  in 
name, — ^he  remarked,  that  it  would  be  the  interest  of  his  country  to 
from  its  political  and  commercial  alliances,  with  the  northern  and  Ger- 


8M  KOTBS  OF  FOREIGN  TRAYJBL. 


man  nations.  This  he  expected  soon  to  be  facilitated  and  consumnuk 
ted,  by  the  construction  of  a  railroad  through  the  Alpine  region,  con- 
necting Turin,  Genoa,  Venice  and  Milan,  with  the  states  of  Germany, 
and  establish  business  relations  with  Hamburg  and  the  Holland  portB» 
The  wisdom  of  this  policy  at  once  struck  me  very  favorably.  Bat 
alas,  Sardinia,  as  well  as  France,  has  shed  and  drunk  much  of  the  blood 
of  God^s  saints !  The  days  of  retribution  belong  to  the  future ;  and, 
as  I  read  the  Scriptures,  and  understand  the  plan  of  the  divine  provi- 
deiice,  I  have  no  hope  of  Liberty,  ever  being  successfully  and  perma- 
nently established,  either  by  means  of  Constitutional  Monarchy,  or  a 
republican  form  of  government,  in  any  of  the  antichristian  nations  of 
Europe.  They  are  doomed  to  destruction,  and  the  day  is  not  far  dia- 
tant  when  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ,  in  executing  ^  the 
decree''  of  Heaven,  "  shall  break  them  with  a  rod  of  iron  and  dash 
them  in  pieces  like  a  potter's  vessel." 

We  remained  at  Augusta  till  we  had  dined.  The  &re  was  of  the 
poorest  description,  by  no  means  correspondent  with  the  price  diarged. 
I  took  occasion,  during  the  delay,  to  stroll  around;  and  during  my  walk 
witnessed  the  preparation  and  processes  for  making  wine.  Large  tubs 
that  would  contain  a  couple  of  hogsheads  or  more,  were  filled  witii 
crushed  grapes.  By  tramping,  the  skins  had  been  broken,  and  &e 
pulp  mashed.  In  this  state  the  contents  were  left,  for  two  or  three 
days,  for  fermentation,  when  the  juice  of  the  grape  was  drawn  off  by 
tapping  the  tubs,  and  being  decanted  into  barrels,  was  put  away  for  tbe 
slower  process  of  working  itself  clear.  The  pulp  and  skins  that  re- 
mained, were  afterwards  stirred  up,  and  water  having  been  added, 
were  left  for  a  second  fermenting  process,  which  yielded  the  low  and 
sour  wine  drunk  by  the  common  people.  It  answered  to  our  water 
cider,  and  was  afforded  at  even  cheaper  rates  than  the  bottled  is  ¥rith 
us.  It  possesses  no  potency  to  intoxicate,  but  the  acid  and  astringent 
properties  of  the  liquor  thus  obtained,  render  it  a  palatable  and  health* 
ful  beverage,  which  serves  to  counteract  the  effect  of  the  lime-stone 
water,  often  so  deleterious  in  the  latter  part  of  the  season,  when  drank 
without  something  to  relieve  it  from  its  injurious  effects  upon 
the  bowels.  The  whole  country  rests  upon  a  lime  stone  base,  and  the 
water,  like  that  in  the  United  States,  wherever  it  penetrates  through 
the  rocky  strata  of  the  carbonate  of  lime,  tends  in  the  latter  part  of 
summer,  to  produce  diarrhoeas,  dysenteries,  and  other  bilious  diseases, 
for  which  the  low  cheap  wines  of  the  region  seem  to  be  an  admirable 
preventive.  I  saw  no  signs  of  intemperance,  and  could  not  help  think- 
ing, that  if,  in  the  United  States,  in  our  attempts  to  arrest  the  growth 
of  intemperance,  and  preserve  the  lives  and  morals  of  those  in  danger 


GBBAP  WXHBS— OBKOA.  Mft 

■  ■  ■  I  ,       ■      ■  .pi^  I  iigai  ..    ,  I      , 

from  the  use  of  intoxicating  liqnors,  we  could  procure  laws  that  would 
fiMsilitate  the  detecticm  and  punishment  of  persons  engaged  in  making 
enforced  wines,  and  drugged  liquors,  poisoned  wines  and  beer  and  fde, 
6io,y  and  encourage  the  growth  of  the  vine  and  the  manufiicture  of  the 
pure  wine  from  the  grape,  and  low  wines  of  the  character  used  in 
France  and  Italy,  by  which  intoxication  cannot  be  produced,  and  the 
hrewingof  mild  ale,  we  should  conciliate  the  mass  of  society,  and 
more  effectually  banish  inteniperance,  than  by  attempting  severe  legis- 
lation, to  secure  total  abstin^ice  from  every  beverage  but  water,  and 
produce  those  dangerous  reactions  which  so  often  throw  the  temperance 
cause  seriously  back. 

The  Hotel  Feder,  to  which  1  went,  both  by  previous  recommenda- 
tion of  a  friend,  and  of  the  Hotel  Feder  landlord  in  Turin,  was  filled. 
The  young  man,  whom  we  had  met  in  Turin,  and  who  served  us  there 
as  commissaire,  being  at  Grenoa,  very  politely  met  and  conducted  us  to 
the  Hotel  de  France  immediately  adjoining,  where  we  found  comfort- 
able lodgings  and  excellent  accommodations  at  moderate  prices. 

A  Valet  de  Place  whom  Dr.  H.,  and  myself  called  to  our  aid,  con- 
ducted us  to  places  we  wished  to  see.  He  led  us  first  to  the  post  office, 
where  I  found  a  letter  from  my  son,  dated  Philadelphia,  September 
15,  making  it  just  twenty-one  days  from  the  date  till  its  reception.  It 
gneatly  relieved  my  mind,  bringing  cheering  intelligence  from  home  as 
late  as  the  first  week  in  September.  I  had  begun  to  feel  very  uneasy, 
not  having  heard  from  my  fitmily  since  I  left  the  United  States.  It 
required  &ith  and  submisision  to  reign  in  my  imagination,  and  keep  my 
mind  at  rest,  especially,  inasmuch  as  when  I  arrived  at  Turin,  being  a 
good  deal  wearied  and  weakened  by  hard  travel,  my  nerves  were 
somewhat  deranged  and  not  so  readily  controlled  by  the  will  as  in 
•health.  I  felt  truly  grateful  for  the  kind  Providence  of  God  which 
thus  fiir,  has  made  my  way  so  prosperous.  The  cheering  intelligence 
I  received  was  like  cold  water  to  a  thirsty  soul. 

Genoa  is  situated  in  the  northwestern  part  of  the  great  bay  formed 
by  the  west  coast  of  Italy,  and  the  Alpine  ridge  jutting  out  into  the 
sea  in  high  headlands,  about  Finale,  some  forty-six  miles  west  by 
the  road.  The  city  lies  in  tlie  form  of  a  crescent,  along  the  shore  of 
the  harbor.  The  ground  ascends  rapidly,  as  you  pass  from  the  shore, 
till  you  reach  the  summit  of  the  mountain  ridges  surrounding  it. 
Three  tiers  of  walls  iiave  been  thrown  around  it,  as  the  dty  has  ex- 
trended  its  dimensions.  On  the  tops  of  the  mountain  heights  are 
strongly  buUt  forts,  which  give  it  the  appearance  of  a  well  fortified  dty. 
Hie  population  is  about  160,000.  Its  commerce  is  reviving  rapidly, 
and  it  contains  manu&ctories  of  silks,  velvets,  damasks,  soaps,  die 


9t6  NOTSa  OF  FORSLON  TRAVEL. 

Iliere  is  a  beautiful  and  ^teiusive  terrace  raiaed  upon  aa  aroade^  and 
■hopa^  stretohing  along  tiie  margin  of  the  harbor, — the  arcade  b^ng  on 
Iflie  inner  side,  wherd  are  the  market  and  custom  house,  ^ec  Stores 
Ibnn  the  outer  side  next  the  harbor  and  open  on  it  All  are  white,  of 
marble,  the  property  of  the  oity,  from  which  it  derives  a  revenue.  Hie 
streets  are  exceedingly  narrow,  and  most  of  them  utterly  impassible 
for  wagona  or  carriages-pere  alleys,  not  more  than  from  ten  to  fi^ 
teen  feet  wide.  The  strada  or  street,  called  nuova,  nuovissima,  Balbi 
and  Carlo,  Felice  at  different  turns  it  makes  is  the  widest,,  yet  does 
not  exceed  thirty-five  feet.  In  some  streets  the  houses,  which  are  five 
or  six  stories,  seem  to  lean  toward  each  other,  and  are  kept  apart 
^parently  by  beams  stretching  across  to  prevent  them  firom  approach- 
ing. The  port  is  terminated  at  either  extremity  by  two  piers,  tJie 
M<do  vecchio  and  the  Molo  nuovo.  They  stretch  across  the  entranoe, 
and  are  so  situated  as  to  prevent  the  heavy  ocean  waves,  from  rolling 
in  with  violence  and  thus  render  it  easy  for  vessels  to  enter.  A  li^t 
house,  built  more  than  300  years  ago  (1547),  rises  near  the  land  end 
of  the  western  pier,  and  towers  to  the  height  of  more  than  300  feet 
from  the  rook.  The  street  above  mentioned,  contuns  many  splendid 
palaces ;  the  palazzo  Rosso,  Spinola  Pallavichini,  Balbi,  Beale,  ^ic  I 
visited  the  University,  the  Palace  of  the  King,  the  Palace  of  Rossi,  tBe 
custom  house,  and  the  court  room  in  which  the  military  authorities 
were  sitting  and  drawing  lots,  to  determine  who  of  them  whose  names 
were  returned  as  being  twenty  to  twenty-one  this  year,  should  be 
drafted  into  the  army.  This  last  scene  was  a  sad  sight  I  blessed 
God  that,  in  my  beloved  country,  there  was  no  such  form  of  oppres- 
sion. 

Genoa  is  a  city  of  palaces.  They  stretch  one  after  another,  in 
rich  abundance  along  the  principal  street  of  Balbe,  Nuova  and  Nuo* 
vissima.  Many  of  the  hotels,  as  that  of  Feder,  Croce  de  Malta,  ^sa, 
were  palaces  once.  The  lower  two  or  three  stories  are  not  lofty,  but 
are  appropriated  for  stables,  stores,  cellars  6ic.  The  main  entranoe  is 
into  a  hall  generally  supported  by  columns  and  into  a  court.  Mag- 
nificent marble  stair  cases  start  on  each  hand  as  you  proceed ;  and  not 
until  you  have  ascended  into  the  third  story,  do  you  reach  the  suite  of 
rooms,  where  the  family  abides.  In  the  King's  palace  and  others,  there . 
is  a  small  chamber  or  closet  into  which  there  is  easy  access,  and 
whence,  a  signal  given  ascent  or  descent  is  had  by  pullies  to  avoid 
the  fatigue  of  the  stair  case.  The  court  is  surrounded  by  arcades  si^ 
ported  by  columns  of  marble.  Beyond  the  court  is  often  a  small  gar- 
den, sliaded  with  orange  and  lemon  trees.  The  splendor  of  the  orna- 
ments, the  gilded  ceilings  and  fresco  paintings,  and  the  rich  furniture, 


soxmsmr  to  N10&  »t 


md  eiteiudTe^UeeUoiio  of  aditairitble  pttintiiigB,  weU  i^epaj  the  citfi- 
mif  of  the  visitor,  who  is  oon^ucted  t^ugh  tiie  rotnns  by  an  atteb- 
dant  at  the  ezpenee  <^a  franc 

OttoUr  7ih.  EufALB.  Left  Genoa  this  A.  M.,  between  mx  and 
aoYea  o'<dock  in  a  voitore  with  Dr.  H.  to  tak:e  a  journey  along  the 
Bivieira  di  penente  road  to  Nice.  We  engi^ed  our  Vetturino,  and 
SEUMte  a  written  eontract  with  him  to  take  us  there  in  nine  days,  he  to 
be  at  all  the  expense  of  our  living  and  lodging  by  the  way. 

The  road  runs  along  the  sea  diore,  wiqding  around  the  jutting  head 
lands  of  the  spurs  of  the  Appenines  and  the  Alps,  occasionally  dimbing 
up  to  the  heoght  of  100  to  1000  feet  from  the  rolling  suites  that  dash 
and  break  on  the  rocks  immediately  below.  The  whole  coast  is 
fringed  with  these  projecting  head  lands,  forming  bays  and  bights,  and 
having  a  town  or  village  situated  on  almost  every  little  jMcoe  of  level 
ground  at  the  mouth  of  a  gorge.  The  scenery  is  exceeding  fine.  The 
4ay  was  as  fine,  and  the  journey  has  been  one  of  peculiar  interest. 
Coming  out  of  Genoa  the  Riviera  road  pursues  the  track  of  the  old 
Roman  Aurelian  way,  which  anciently,  as  it  passed  over  the  moun- 
tains, was  but  a  mule  path,  and  often  dangerous  for  the  traveler.  The 
present  excellent  road  was  planned  and  commenced  by  Napoleon,  hav- 
ing been  executed,  as  &r  as  Mentone,  under  his  government.  It  was 
finished  by  th»  Sardinian.  It  is  a*ossed  by  some  fifty  or  sixty  tor- 
r^nts^  the  beds  of  which  at  present  are  dry,  but  show  plainly  how 
difficult,  and  frequently  firaught  with  disappointment,  must  be  travd- 
ing  over  it,  during  the  period  of  heavy  nuns  and  snows  -  rapidly 
meKing  on  the  distant  mouatains.  A  few  bridges  only  have  b«m 
constructed,  and  t^e  sides  are  not,  in  some  places^  sufficiently  protected 
with  barrier  walls.  The  towns  are  frequent,  one  occurring  at  the 
head  of  every  little  bay.  San  Pictro  d' Arena,  Monte  de  san  Quirioo, 
Villa  Vivaldi,  Sestri,  in  whose  principal  church  they  profess  to  show 
the  bark  of  St.  Peter,  Pegli,  Ora,  Voltre,  Arenzana,  Cogoletto,  Vora- 
sine,  Savona,  Vado,  Borgezse^  Spotomo,Noli,  Varigotta,  Mariano,  and 
finale,  were  the  successive  towns  through  which  we  passed.  In 
some  of  them  the  streets  were  so  narrow  that  we  had  to  drive  along 
the  quay.    About  fifteen  miles  firom  Genoa  is  the  head  land  of  Cogo- 

.  letto,  in  the  town  of  which  name,  and  in  that  part  of  it  called  Porte, 
where  we  stopped  to  bait  our  horses,  we  were  shown  the  house  in 
which  Quistopher  Columbus  was  bom  and  lived.    It  is  now  occupied 

^by  an  insignificant  store,  as  much  so  as  that  in  John  Knox's  house  in 
Edinburgh;  but  doubts  are  entertained  whether  the  tradition  is  relia- 
ble. The  scenery  was  exceedingly  picturesque  and  oflen  grand,  Genoa 
reappearing  continually  in  the  distance,  and  all  the  intermediate  vU- 


S98  NOTEB  OF  lOBSSiaV  TRAYflL. 

Uiges,  as  we  saooeBsive^y  rounded  the  head  bunds  •  juttiDg  out  Ml 
fiffther  and  &rther  into  the  sea.  It  w»  not  till  a  ahortdistanoe  befofe 
we  reached  Finale,  that  it  disappeared  from  our  view. 

Villages  and  oosdj  seats  with  olive  yards,  and  orange  and  lemon 
groves,  fig  trees,  vineyards,  and  different  varieties  of  trees,  hedges  of  aloes, 
and  patches  of  cane,  oontioiually  presented  themselves  to  view,  and  gave 
peculiar  interest  to  the  scene.  I  went  into  the  chapel  at  Porte,  and  looked 
upon  its  images  and  pictures,  the  objects  of  a  debasikig.  idolatry;  and 
while  I  stood  there  all  alone,  could  not  repress  the  sad  feeling  that  over> 
whelmed  me  at  the  thought  of  the  wretched  ignorance  and  infiitoation 
of  the  beings  that  honored  such  things.  Beside  one  of  the  shrines  or 
side  altars,  a  tablet  in  satin  contains  a  notice,  that,  by  the  liberal  con- 
tribution of  some  Archbishop,  mass  is  said  there  twice  a  week — a 
frequency  corresponding  with  the  sum  of  money  appropriated — thus 
advertising  it  to  be  a  regular  merchandise  affidr.  The  diurdi  at 
Finale  is  connected  with  a  collegiate  establishment,  and  is  very  higUy 
embellished  with  marble  Corinthian  columns,  marble  altars,  ridi 
sculpture,  gilded  cornices,  and  fresco  paintings.  It  is  called  the  diuroh 
of  St.  John  the  Baj^st,  and  has  three  large  altars  at  the  end  of  tlie 
building,  and  some  six  or  eight  in  the  side  chapels.  A  frtmc  obtained 
a  frdl  view  of  all.  The  virgin  every  where  is  made  the  object  of  ado- 
ration, and  seems  to  stand  and  be  honored  as  ^  the  Queen  of  Heaven" 
iar  above  Christ.  In  one  of  the  shrines  a  wax  statue  of  her  is  seen 
above  the  altar,  in  a  chamber  into  which  you  look  through  a  la^ 
glass  window.  Lights  are  kept  burning  constantly,  so  as  to  exhibit 
the  figure,  and  a  curtain  hides  it  from  the  rude  gaze  of  the  q>ectator 
except  when  drawn  for  the  purpose  of  exposure.  St  John  the  Bap- 
tist, is  especially  honored  here  in  various  pictorial  representaticms  of 
his  life ;  one  of  them  represents  the  trunk  of  his  headless  body,  the 
executioner  with  bloody  sword  in  his  grasp,  and  Herodias  with  his 
head  in  her  hand — a  shoddng  spectade ! 

I  noticed  in  the  Cathedral  Church,  at  Genoa,  like  tokens  of  honor  to 
John  the  Baptist  A  young  priest,  in  attendance  during  our  visit  to 
that  temple,  <x>nducted  us  through  it,  and  led  us  into  the  diflbrent  shrines 
and  behind  the  altars,  pladng  us  in  the  best  positions  for  light  in 
which  to  see  the  various  paintings.  One  of  the  altars  or  diapels  im 
the  side  of  the  building  is  the  shrine  of  the  Baptist  We  were  taken 
behind  the  altar,  and  shown  the  tomb  in  which,  they  say,  lies  the  real 
body  of  the  saint,  endosed  in  an  iron  chest,  whidi,  on  St  John^s  dajt 
is  taken  out  and  carried  in  great  and  splendid  prooesnon.  While  I 
was  behind  the  altar,  an  English  gentleman  had  been  oondueted 
within  the  rails  by  anotller  priest    He  seemed  quite  exdted,  and. 


L 


JOtTBKET  TO  NXGB— BAN  KBKO.  999 

&iditig  diat  I  spoke  the  English,  exdaimed,  in  great  anger:  **What 
abominable  nonsense  \ — ^they  will  not  let  my  wife  (who  was  standing 
ontside)  enter  or  approach  the  altar  ["  I  replied  to  him,  that  I  under- 
'^stood  them  to  say,  that  no  woman  is  ever  allowed,  or  has  been  for 
three  hundred  years,  to  go  near  the  shrine — and  this  prohibition  was 
meant  as  a  token  of  indignation  against  Herodias,  for  having  mur- 
dered the  saint.  Addressing  the  priest,  and  inquiring  whether  that 
were  the  fiict,  he  replied  affirmatively,  which  seemed  to  appease  the 
Englishman's  rage — but  his  lady  remained  outside  the  screen. 

October  Bth,  San  Remo. — Our  journey,  this  day,  has  been  through 
scenery  equally  grand  and  picturesque  with  diat  of  yesterday.  The 
terraces,  on  which  the  old  olive  trees  grow,  are  very  numerous,  and 
carried  &r  up  the  mountain  side.  The  road  often  went  for  miles 
through  olive  groves.  The  ground  on  which  they  grow  is  kept  clear  of 
weeds  and  grass,  and  is  regularly  manured  and  stirred.  Many  of  the 
trees  were  evidently  several  centuries  old.  The  straggling,  crooked 
branches  and  gnarled  trunks  of  the  olive  trees,  together  with  their 
grey-looking  foliage,  were  unlike  anything  I  had  ever  seen  or  imag- 
ined. We  passed  through  Pietra,  Logna,  Borghetta,  Cerialc  and 
Albenga.  While  we  stopped  at  the  last-named  place  t(.  water  the 
horses,  I  strayed  along  the  beach  to  see  them  fish  for  sardines,  in 
which  business  we  found  many,  in  different  places,  engaged.  We 
dined  at  Alassio,  and' passed  through  Lingueglia,  Cervo,  Diano  Merino, 
Oneglia  (where  we  dined),  Porto  Maurizio,  San-  Lorengo  and  several 
other  smaller  towns,  and  reached  San  Remo  a  little  before  sev^ 
o'clock — ^where  we  stopped  at  the  Hotel  Palma.  Passing  the  head- 
land before  we  came  to  Porto  Maurizio,  and  looking  back,  we  had  a 
splendid  view.  The  road  runs  up  the  mountain  brow  full  one  thous- 
and feet  from  the  water  below.  We  counted  seven  different  towns, 
and  a  dozen  churches,  appearing  in  different  places,  among  extensive 
forests  of  the  olive  trees.  Porto  Maurizio  is,  in  part,  built  upon  a 
rocky  hill,  that  rises  from  the  water's  edge,  and  contains  a  splendid 
church,  the  tower  and  cupola  of  which  are  all  of  white  marble )  but, 
like  all  the  towns  through  which  we  have  passed,  its  streets  are  exceed- 
ingly narrow — just  wide  enough  for  a  carriage  to  get  through — ^to  do 
>  which  with  safety,  those  in  the  street  were  necessiated  to  enter  the 
houses  or  step  into  openings  along  the  sides  of  the  streets.  Arches 
are  thrown  across  the  street  at  high  elevations,  apparently  to  keep  the 
houses  from  leaning  over  against  each  other.  The  upper  part  of  San 
Bemo,  which  is  built  upon  the  higher  part  of  the  hill,  is  impassable  to 
carriages.  The  streets  in  it  are  exceeding  narrow,  and  the  houses,  as 
they  riibe  on  one  side,  are  in  an  enibankfnent  on  the  other,  and  so 


^  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAYSL. 

woTen  txigether  by  arches,  that  persons  might  travel  from  one  part  to 
pother,  and  all  over  it,  without  descending  m€o  the  streets.  These 
towns  evidently  owe  their  plan  of  construction  to  the  times  whoa  it 
was  necessary,  in  order  to  guard  against  marauding  invaders,  that 
the  population  should  dwell  closely  together,  and  be  better  able  to 
fortify,  and  resist  a  foe. 

October  9tk  Reached  Nice  this  p.  m.  about  seven  o'clock.  We 
dined  at  Mentone,  having  passed  through  Bordighiera,  which  is  an 
ancient  castle,  finely  situated  under  olive  yards  climbing  the  mountain 
sides.  Here  the  palm  tree  appears  frequently,  many  of  which  are 
swathed  round,  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  the  growth  of  the 
branches — said  to  be  used  in  processions  on  the  Sunday,  deriving 
its  festal  name  from  their  use  among  certain  religionists.  Perinaldo^ 
the  birth-place  of  the  celebrated  astronomer  Geau  Dominico  Cassini, 
^d  of  Monaldi,  his  nephew,  as  celebrated.  Bordighiera,  with  the 
rural  communes  of  Compo  Bosso,  Vallo  Crossa,  San  Riagio,  Soldano, 
Vallebuono  and  Sasso,  once  formed  a  Republic  distinct  fix)m  that  of 
Genoa,  though  under  its  supremacy.  The  road  runs  mostly  low,  and 
sometimes  near  the  shore  from  Bordighiera  to  Yentemiglio,  once  the 
capital  of  the  Intimelian  Ligurian  tribes.  The  Catholics  say  that  St. 
Barnabas  was  its  first  bishop.  It  stands  on  the  north  side  of  a  hi^ 
hill,  which  juts  out  perpendicularly  into  the  sea,  and  on  the  top  of 
which  is  an  ancient  castle.  The  road  crosses  a  long  wooden  bridge 
over  the  Roja  before  entering  the  town.  The  streets  are  so  narrow 
4ind  rough  and  steep,  that  we  had  to  alight  from  our  carriage  and 
walk.  Here  we  saw  some  large  and  beautiful  peaches,  some  of  which 
we  bought  for  a  sous  apiece,  but  their  texture  and  flavor  were  .not  at 
|J1  equal,  to  their  appearance ; — disappointed  in  them,  we  abandoned 
them  to  our  vetturino.  As  the  street  turns  and  winds  up  the  hill,  you 
pass  a  cathedral,  which  stands  on  the  little  terrace  between  the  wind- 
ing of  the  road,  along  its  base  on  one  side,  and  level  with  its  roof  on 
the  other.  Soldiers  are  kept  stationed  in  the  castle  towering  above  it 
fkt  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  which  gives  it  quite  an  imposing 
ftppearance.  The  next  town  to  which  we  came,  was  Mentone,  where 
we  stopped  to  dine,  at  the  I^otel  de  Turin.  This  town  and  Monaco, 
which  lies  off  from  the  road,  on  a  hill  near  the  sea  side,  are  the  princi- 
pal parts  of  the  dominions  of  the  Prince  of  Monaco — ^a  petty  monarch 
of  the  Grimaldi  family,  who  holds  the  right  of  sovereignty,  receiving 
rents  in  kind  and  thirlage,  which  he  spends,  half  among  his  subjects, 
ftfid  the  rest  in  Paris,  where  he  resides,  while  he  puts  his  kingdom 
vnder  the  protection  of  the  King  of  Sardinia,  allowing  him  to  station 
^Idiers  there.     I  visited^the  churches  here,  and  dambere^^p  the 


JOURNET  TO  NICE.        '  30l 


steep  streets  to  an  old  castle,  in  ruins,  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  which  I 
found  was  used  as  a  cemetery.  A  few  tombs  and  vaults  seem  td 
have  been  appropriated  by  the  more  wealthy,  while  two  or  three 
vaults  served  for  the  general  use.  One  of  them  was  not  closed,  and 
the  other  imperfectly.  It  would  seem  that,  afler  the  flesh  decays 
the  bones  are  disinterred  and  placed  in  the  only  room  of  the  castle 
which  remains.  Hundreds  of  skulls  and  bones  lay  confusedly 
together  in  one  comer  of  the  room — a  hideous  sight. 

The  road,  afler  leaving  Mentone,  climbs  the  mountain  by  the  pas^ 
of  Roccabrunna,  and  reaches  a  very  lofly  height  of  several  thousand 
feet.  Vineyards  and  olive-yards  are  found  wherever  there  is  soil 
enough  to  admit  of  the  structure  of  terraces ;  and  the  road  is  shaded 
with  rhododendrons,  oleanders  and  plane  trees.  Koceabrunna  is  situ^ 
ated  on  a  rock  of  breccia,  which,  it  is  said,  has  sunk  several  hundred 
feet  without  damaging  or  disturbing  the  castle  and  buildings.  As  wd 
passed  up  the  mountain,  the  clouds,  which,  for  some  time,  we  had  seen 
gathering,  poured  upon  us  a  heavy  rain ;  but,  ascending  further,  thd 
atmosphere  became  clearer,  and  we  could  look  down  through  an  open^ 
ing  In  the  clouds  below,  to  Monaco  and  Roceabrunna,  and  see  ^em 
like  gems  studded  in  silver.  The  scene  was  exceedingly  captivating*^ 
Hie  ascent  and  descent  occupied  us  about  five  hours.  I  was  exceed* 
ingly  interested  with  the  geological  phenomena  this  country  presented. 
GrTtmite,  trap,  breccia,  conglomerate,  sandstone  and  limestone,  made 
their  appearance  in  quick  succession,  sometimes.  The  whole  masses 
presented  the  appearance  of  great  disruptions  and  contortions  effected 
by  the  upheaving  force,  producing  chasms  and  .cracks,  which  were 
filled  up  as  with  material  washed  into  them. 

The  ride  of  the  last  three  days  has  been,  to  me,  more  replete  with 
varied  interest,  than  any  portion  of  my  journey  in  Europe.  The 
opportunity  for  geological  observations  itself  was  sufficient  to  com-t 
pensate  for  the  time  and  expense.  The  road  leads  you  along  the  foot 
and  over  the  sloping  sides  and  bluffs  of  th6  Maritime  Alps,  where 
they  terminate  abruptly  in  the  sea.  These  declivities,  in  many  places^ 
are  as  steep  below  as  above  the  water — ^the  depth,  at  a  short  distance 
from  the  shore,  measuring  hundreds  of  fathoms.  The  traveller  is  con- 
veyed over  a  road,  now  winding  around  the  curvatures  or  indentures 
in  the  coast,  and  then  on  ledges,  climbing,  in  a  zig  zag  course,  upon 
the  &ce  of  the  precipitous  escarpments  of  the  mountains.  As  you 
ascend  and  descend,  abundant  opportunities  are  afforded  to  study  tlid 
geological  structyre  of  the  rocks  composing  the  Alpine  declivities^ 
Hie  greai  mass  of  them  are  of  secondary  formation ;  but  it  is  obvious 
that  they  have  suffered  immense  disturbance— those  of  the  primary 


308  NOTES  OF  FOSEION  TBAYKL. 

formation  appearing  abundandj  wherever  the  elevation  indioatM 
intensity  in  the  upheaval  force.  In  the  beds  of  the  valleys,  or  at  the 
mouths  of  the  gorges,  the  strata  are  composed  of  gravel,  marl,  sand 
and  marine  shells,  sometimes  elevated  above  the  sea  from  one  to  two 
hundred  feet  These  strata  are  generally  horizontal,  or  showing 
somewhat^varying  and  undulating  lines,  and  are  evidently  composed 
of  the  debris  of  the  mountain,  produced  by  the  disturbance  and  disrap- 
tion  of  the  lower  strata  by  the  upheaval  force  that  thrust  the  lower 
and  older  rock  through  their  beds,  and  carried  a  portion  of  them  up 
with  them.  So  far  from  being  led  to  believe,  with  Mr.  Lyell,  in  the 
gradual  and  long-protracted  operation  of  these  upheaval  forces,  and 
the  slow  growth  of  these  immense  mountain  masses,— to  my  eye,  the 
scene  demonstrated  very  rapid  transmutations,  and  the  simultaneous 
action  of  immense  floods  and  torrents  during  that  of  the  upheaval 
forces. 

The  Alps  tower  to  the  height  of  several  thousand  feet,  with 
bold,  precipitous  outlines ;  and  the  deposits  and  disrupted  strata  vary 
in  thickness  along,  the  coast — attaining  less  height,  by  several  hundred 
feet,  at  Genoa,  from  what  they  do  at  Nice.  I  saw  &r  more  proof,  that 
convinced  me  of  the  conjoint  and  rapid  action  of  the  volcanic  forces, 
producing  and  co-operating  with  a  general  deluge,  by  the  upheaval  of 
the  old  ocean  beds  and  the  subsidence  of  the  old  continents,  as  Moses^ 
language,  naturally  and  easily  interpreted,  plainly  implies-^than  of 
the  slow  and  gradual  processes,  which  many  geologists  seem  to  think 
they  must  assume.  I  see  no  satisfactory  reason  yet  offered  for  sudi 
assumptions ;  nor  do  I  think  that,  in  denying  them  and  calling  for 
better  proof  than  any  yet  offered,  any  man  risks  his  reputation ;  at 
least  in  the  present  very  imperfect  and  confused  state  of  the  often  con- 
tradictory theories,  given  forth  oracularly  as  science — which  can  lay  no 
just  claim  to  it,  and,  at  best,  are  but  smuggled,  and  imposed  upon  the 
ignorant  and  unobservant  as  facts.  The  m&n  who  will  assume  what 
Prof.  Hitchcock  lays  down  as  the  established  principles  or  postulates 
of  geological  science,  cannot  but  have  as  confused  views  as  this  estim* 
able  man  appears  to  me  to  betray  in  other  respects — who,  whatever 
reputation  he  may  deserve  as  a  reporter  of  facts,  when  well  estab- 
lished, can  certainly  make  no  just  claim  to  logical  power  or  accunu^. 
He  has  utterly  failed  in  the  exhibition  of  anything  even  like  proof  of 
the  positions  he  laid  down  in  the  Biblical  Repository,  some  seventeen 
years  ago,  and  called  established  principUe,  when  replying  to  some 
criticisms  of  Prof.  Stuart.  If  such  be  the  vague,  illogical,  ill-defined 
principles — ^mere  beggings  of  the  question,  non  sequiiur  inferences,  or 
bold  assumptions,  mingled  with  reported  fects — on  which  Geology 


ABRIYAL  AT  NIOS.  SOS 


r«i|t9,  we  shall  never  be  able  to  respect  it  as  a  sdenoe,  or  the  logic  of 
its  sell^lauding  advocates.  In  the  study  of  Creology,  as  &r  as  it  is  a 
science,  I  take  a  deep  interest ;  but  the  notions  and  explanations  of 
admiring  savans,  however  tesselated  with  reported  &ct8,  and  ^some- 
times so  blended  with  them,  in  a  sort  of  attractive  mosaic,  are  not  to 
be  thrust  upon  us  ex  cathedra ;  nor  the  mouths  of  those  who  object  to 
their  logic  closed  by  such  a  self-complacent  bluffing  off  as  the  learned 
Professor  of  Geology  attempted,  when  he  remarked — *'  I  am  satisfied 
that  the  tout  eneemble  of  evidence  in  support  of  this  prindple  (a  prin- 
ciple, by  the  by,  which  is  made  up  of  an  assumption  not  proved,  and 
ah  inference  from  it  wholly  a  nan  sequiiur)  can  never  be  so  expressed 
in  words  as  to  make  much  impression  on  the  mind,  even  of  an  intelli-  ' 
gent  man  who  has  no  practical  acquaintance  with  geology." 

October  lOtk.  Although  it  rained,  occasionally,  quite  hard  upon  us 
as  we  descended  the  mountain  to  Nice,  along  the  road  leaving  the  coast, 
there  was  something  very  grand  and  exciting  in  the  scene.  We 
reached  the  city  early  yesterday  ^flemoon,  and  took  up  our  abode  m 
the  Hotel  des  Etrangeres,  where  we  found  excellent  quarters.  The 
population  of  this  city  is  about  30,000.  The  streets  of  the  older  part 
of  the  place  are,  like  all  the  other  cities  we  have  seen,  quite  narrow, 
and  by  no  means  clean.  New  streets,  terraces  and  squares  invite 
the  abode  of  visitors,  presenting  a  more  attractive  appearance.  But  I 
should  not  relish  a  winter  abode,  for  health,  in  this  place.  Its  shel- 
tered position,  exposed  only  to  the  mild  winds  from  the  south  across 
the  sea,  give  it,  in  general,  a  climate  almost  tropical ;  yet,  when  the 
winds  come  down  from  the'  north,  rushing  through  the  mountain 
gorges,  the  temperature  is  by  no  means  what  I  should  think  would  be 
&vorable  to  invalids.  As  a  watering  place  inviting  to  visitors,  it  has 
not  been  said,  I  should  judge,  without  foundation,  whatever  may  have 
been  its  reputation  as  a  place  of  resort  for  consumptive  and  other 
patients,  '^  there  are  gaiety,  idleness,  sickness  and  death."  It  has 
some  manufactures  of  silk,  and  its  exports. are  chiefiy  oil,  wine  and 
firuit.  A  fine  terrace,  in  the  new  town,  affords  a  very  extensive  and 
beautiful  prospect. 

I  worshipped,  to-day,  in  the  English  church.  The  congrega- 
tion was  numerous,  many  English  residents  and  travelers  being 
here;  but  there  was  nothing  especially  worthy  of  notice  in  the 
religious  services.  The  day  has  been  rainy,  and  most  of  the  time  has 
been  spent  in  my  own  apartment.  I  observe  that  the  pom^anite 
and  fig,  with  the  prickly  pear  and  the  aloe,  as  well  as  the  palm  and 
the  olive,  are  quite  abundant  in  the  gardens.  In  Villafitmca,  which 
Kes  dose  to  the  shore,  and,  like  Mentone,  is  more  protected  than 


3(M  NOTES  OF  KWSSOiB  TRAVEL. 

«i  ■■     'I        I   '     1 1.  ■  I  ■■  ^    I         I1.I-.    1 1  ■  I  .1  ■  I.- 1 I  I II  ■  II  , 

Nice  from  the  northern  blMts^  the  dimate  is  said  to  be  milder  in  tbe 

ft 

winter,  so  that  oranges,  lemons,  cheriibias  and  olives  are  sucoes^Uy 
cultivated,    h  is  preferable,  on  this  account,  for  invalids. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 
Pastporia —  ViUa  PdUiiricine — Leghorn — Flormee. 

Gbkoa.  October  I2th;  Left  Nice  last  evening  at  six  o'clock,  in  the 
steamboat  Dante;  and  arrived  this  A.  M.,  about  six.  The  evening 
WBB  rough,  and  the  wind  blew  strongly  ahead,  carrying  a  heavy  sea. 
I  was  unexpectedly  exempted  from  sickness  or  any  disagreeable  feel- 
ing, and  slept  well  through  the  night,  rising  in  the  morning  just  as  we 
entered  the  harbor. 

Our  passports  had  been  taken  from  us  upon  our  arrival  at  Nice,  and 
as  wc  were  told,  were  delivered  to  the  police,  where  we  were  required 
to  report  ourselves.  Upon  inquiring  for  them  we  were  answered,  Ihat 
they  would  be  vised,  and  we  should  find  them  at  ''the  bureau^'  of  our 
hotel.  On  Monday,  when  we  inquired  for  them  there,  we  were  told, 
thitt  they  had  been  delivered  to  the  Captain  of  the  steamboat,  who 
would  keep  charge  of  them,  and  we  would  find  them  at  Genoa,  when 
we  arrived  there.  In  the  meantime,  although  Nice  is  in  Sardinia,  and 
they  had  been  t^ised  in  Turin  for  Tuscany,  Rome,  and  all  Italy,  and 
again  at  Genoa,  before  We  left  there  for  Nice,  yet  had  we  to  pay 
several  francs  for  something  done  to  them,  we  knew  not  what. 

As  soon  as  the  boat  was  anchored  in  the  harbor  the  Captain  went 
ashore,  to  report  his  arrivals,  and,  as  he  told  us,  to  deliver  our  pass- 
ports to  the  police.  Aflerhis  return,  somewhere  about  half  an  hour, 
a  boat,  with  custom  house  ofRcers,  came  along  side.  These  officials, 
having  entered,  and  made  some  inquiries  and  examination,  ordered  the 
baggage  to  be  all  brought  on  deck.  This  done,  we  were  told  we  might  • 
go  ashore.  Boats  from  the  shore,  in  great  numbers,  were  quickly  in  " 
attendance.  We  were  passed,  first  under  the  inspection  of  the  custom 
house  officers,  and  then  of  the  police ;  but  without  any  further  exam- 
ination of  our  baggage,  which  were  but  three  Saes  de  NuiL 

We  expected  to  remain  in  Genoa  only  through  the  day.  There 
being  about  time  enough  to  see  the  Villa  Pellavicini,  before  sailing  for 
Leghorn,  and  having,  already,  seen  all  we  desired  of  Genoa,  we  took  a 
voiture,  and  a  valet  de  place,  who  had  obtained  permission  for  us  in  a 
written  note,  aigned  by  the  clerk  of  Signer  Pellaviciui,  to  visit  his 
Villa,  about  eight  miles  distant  from  the  dty.  I  was  desirious  to  see 
a  genuine  Italian  villa,  and  was  fully  gratified. 


LAIID  OF  THB  FTRAMn)&  801 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


BT  WABBEy  ISHAIL 


CHAPTER  XXXTTT. 

AdimtoiheBeaiU^  VdOey  0/ the  Nae^—A  (n(>(my  Pass  of  a  Emdrtd  MOeBr-Tfrn 
Quarries  o/SHnlyj — Arrwai  at  the  Caiaracta  and  (he  Confines  o/NMa. 

Leaving  Edfou,  we  were  soon  borne  beyond  the  limits  of  the  beau- 
tiful and  fertile  valley,  which,  for  hundreds  of  miles,  I  had  travers€(9 
with  delight.  Henceforward,  to/the  southern  boundary  of  Nubia 
(something  more  than  a  hundred  miles),  the  ledges  draw  in  closely 
upon  the  river,  contract  the  intervale  almost  to  a  mountain  defile,  ai^d 
sometimes,  even,  the  precipices  overhang  the  river  itself — only  occa- 
sionally retiring,  so  as  to  form  a  small  plain,  which,  if  it  be  not 
covered  with  sand-drifts,  is  too  elevated  to  be  benefitted  by  the  annual 
overflow,  and  is  nearly  barren. 

In  the  midst  of  this  long,  dreary  and  desolate  region,  are  locit^ 
the  quarries  of  Silsily,  which  furnished  most  of  the  stone  used  in  the 
construction  of  the  stupendous  works  of  art  at  Thebes  and  other  local- 
ities. Some  of  the  quarries  I  found  to  be  cut  into  the  mountain,  so 
as  to  form  grottoes,  whose  departments  are  embellished  with  paint- 
ings of  high  finish,  and  of  the  same  general  character  with  those  in  the 
tombs  I  have  described.  There  is  one  quarry  whose  excavations  are 
more  than  a  mile  in  length,  twenty  rods  in  width,  and  eighty  feet  in 
depth.  The  roadways,  over  which  the  imjoaense  blocks  of  stone  were 
transported,  and  the  wheel-tracks  of  the  carriages  used,  are  plainly 
visible.  A  little  imagination  would  convert  them  into  railroads. 
Steps  and  footholds,  cut  in  the  ledge  to  facilitate  access  to  different 
localities,  are  also  to  be  seen.  And  here  lie  huge  blocks  of  stone^ 
quarried  and  partly  chipped,  and  left  unfinished  ;  while  others  are  but 
partially  disengaged  from  their  native  bed,  and  others  still  merely 
laid  ofi  in  outline.  A  little  way  off  is  to  be  seen  that  fabulous  mon- 
ster, the  Sphynx,  blocked  out  and  partly  wrought  into  form,  and  the 
chips  looking  as  new  and  fresh  as  though  it  was  but  yesterday  aban- 
doned by  the  workmen.  It  is  not  unlikely,  that  som^  great  battle 
tamed  the  tide  of  fortune  against  the  proud  monarch  who  then 

reigned,  arrested  the  pursuit  of  his  ambitious  projects,  bnd  put  an  end 
VOL,  I,  Fo.  vn — ^20, 


m  ^«Ain)  OF  THS  praAMiDft. 

forever  to  the  multiplication  of  those  worka  of  art,  whidi  raised 
andent  Egypt  as  much  above  all  other  nations,  as  modem  £^pt  has 

sunk  beneatli  them. 

Still  further  on,  in  this  dismal  mountain  pass,  at  a  point  where  the 

ledges  recede  from  the  river,  lie  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  city  of  Koum 

Ombus,  which  are  four  miles  in  circumference,  and  are  nearly  buried 

in  the  sand.      Portions  of  the  remains  of  a  magnificent  temple, 

hoirever,  are  still  visible.     This  city,  comparatively  of  modem  origin, 

was  built  by  one  of  the  Ptolemies,  not  more  than  two  thousand  years 

•go- 
Emerging  from  this  barren,  con&ed  and  tedious  solitude,  we  soon 

arrived,  to  my  great  joy,  at  the  town  of  Assouan.     This  was  the 

ancient  Syene,  the  frontier  town  of  Egypt,  where  the  Pharaohs  and 

the  Ptolemies  expended  their  treasures  upon  fortifications  and  works 

of  art    The  present  town  of  Assouan,  however,  does  not  occupy  thm 

site  of  ancient  Syene,  though  it  is  immediately  adjoining  it, — the 

inhabitants  having  been  driven  from  the  latter  by  the  plague,  whkh 

swept  off  twenty-one  thousand  inhabitants  at  (me  time. 

Just  above  Assouan,  is  what  is  called  the  cataract — ^though,  in  fivst, 
it  is  nothing  bul  a  rapid.  From  the  descriptions  of  the  andents, 
however,  it  appears  to  have  been  once  a  fidl,  chanioterized  by  greal 
beauty  and  sublimity.  Then,  the  passage  of  the  river  was  so  impeded 
at  this  point,  that  Nubia  and  Abyssinia  were  blessed  with  an  annual 
overflow,  and  the  valley  of  the  Upper  Nile,  though  quite  contracted, 
teemed  with  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  as  th^  of  the  Lower  Nile  oon- 
tinues  to  do  to  this  day.  Above  this,  however,  for  long  stretches  of 
travel,  the  contracted  intervale  is  quite  barren  and  mostly  uncul- 
tivated, and  the  inhabitants  few,  poor,  squalid  and  destitute ;  but  I  did 
not  penetrate  far  into  it. 

Above  the  rapids,  within  the  borders  of  Nubia,  is  the  Island  of 
Philoe,  which  is  &mous  for  its  remains  of  ancient  temples — among 
which  I  lingered  with  delight.  Upon  this  snuill,  barren  island,  ace 
th^  ruins  of  no  less  than  dght  temples,  of  Egyptian  style  and  oingn 
— some  of  them  of  great  magnificence.  A  beauti^  colonade,  adomsd 
with  nine  massive  columns,  and  presenting  an  aspect  of  grandeitra 
first  arrested  my  attention.  Through  a  passage-way  near  by, 
entrance  is  made  into  a  laxgp  court  As  you  enter  it,  to  the  r^t  ia 
H  majestic  propylon  to  a  temple  equally  m^estio,  while  to  the  lef^  ia 
another  colonade,  leading  to  the  river  bank,  on  one  side  of  wUeh, 
thirty*six  columns  are  still  standing  in  a  straight  line,  and  on  the 
other  nineteen.  Next  comes  a  smaller  court,  flanked  on  eaoh  m<fe  l^ 
%j)g|Apade,  dec,  dtc     The  decorated  hierog|iyphs  are  beautifiil^ 


TEEJSLLSD  OF  BLBPHAimirB.  301 ' 

wrought,  and  retain  their  original  brilliancy.  In  one  apaortment,  the 
celamtis  are  ricUy  seulptured,  and  painted  in  the  moat  vivid  eok>r»*- 
eapeeiidly  the  capitals;  the  eeilmg  haa  a  bright  blue  ground  set  widi 
Stan,  which  seem  to  twinkle  as  from  a  firmament.  It  was  with 
reiuctanoe  I  turned  my  steps  from  these  interesting  remains. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  cataract.;  on  each  side  of  it  rise  those  moun- 
tams  of  rose-colored  granite,  from  which  the  famous  obelisks,  columns, 
statues,  &c.,  which  adom  the  temples  of  ancient  Egypt,  were  taken 
— ^and  an  obelisk  about  eighty  feet  long,  partly  quarried,  still  remains 
in  its  original  position.  Ck>lumns  in  a  rough  state,  of  nearly  the  same 
dimensions,  and  huge  blocks  of  stbne,  thirty  or  forty  feet  in  length, 
doven  from  the  rock,  are  also  to  be  seen.  And  there,  too,  are  traces 
of  the  chisel  and  the  drill,  and  also  of  the  massive  wedges  made  use  of 
to  cleave  the  mountain  rock. 

The  bases  of  these  granite  ledges  underlie  the  river,  and  rear  them- 
selves up  in  little  peaks  and  islets  in  its  midst,  among  which  the 
impetuous  current  dashes,  foams  and  roars — ^presenting  a  scene  of 
wild  magnificence,  which  contrasts  beautifully  with  its  quiet  and 
peaceAil  passage  hence  all  the  way  to  the  sea. 

Just  below  the  cataract,  is  the  island  of  Elephantine,  which  is  beau- 
tified, not  only  with  ancient  remains,  but  also  with  a  luxuriant  vegeta- 
tion ;  while,  upon  the  barren  waste  all  around  it,  scarcely  a  green 
thing  is  to  be  seen.  This  delightful  island,  which  abounds  in  tropical 
fruits  and  which,  as  contrasted  with  the  country  around  it,  seems  a 
sort  of  paradise,  is  inhabited  exclusively  by  Nubians,  a  people  €blt 
superior,  in  many  respects,  to  their  Arab  neighbors.  They  are  of  a 
jet  black  color,  but  have  neither  the  flat  nose,  thick  lips  or  sloping 
fi>rehead  of  the  negro.  They  are,,  physically,  well  formed  and  hand- 
some, and  bear  a  stronger  resemblance  to  the  ancient  Egyptians,  as 
depicted  in  the  temples,  than  any  race  I  have  seen. 

Fragments  of  bricks  and  pottery  are  strewn  over  a  great  part  of 
the  island,  and  in  the  midst  of  them  I  found  a  very  ancient  temple, 
presenting  many  interesting  features— a  pilastered  gallery,  of  great' 
beauty,  extending  all  around  it.  Fragments  of  other  edifices,  of  still 
greater  magnificence,  are  to  be  seen  near  it. 

Of  the  town  of  Assouan  I  have  said  nothing — ^nor  is  there  much  to 
be  said,  the  decline  of  its  commercial  intercourse  with  Ethiopia  having 
undermined  its  prosperity  and  divested  it  of  all  its  importance.  There 
are  some  remains  of  its  former  splendor  near  it,  but  they  are  well 
nigh  buried  in  the  sand.  The  ancients  make  mention  of  a  well  here, 
so  situated  as  to  reflect  the  disk  of  the  sun  entire  at  noonday~*-proving 
that  it  was  directly  under  the  tropic;  but  no  trace  of  it  can  be  found, 


•Oi  LAHD  OF  THE  PTBAlODa 

and  it  is  contended  that,  at  the  present  daj,  the  tropic  is  half  a  degree 
fiirther  south.  It  follows,  then,  that  either  the  pole  of  the  earth  hss 
changed  its  position,  or  that  there  was  some  mistake  about  the  matter. 
The  existence  of  such  a  well,  however,  is  spoken  of  bj  andent  geo- 
graphers as  a  well-attested  fiict.  The  matter  seems  to  be  involved  in 
inexplicable  mysterj.  ^ 

OHAPTBB  XXXIV. 
The  Ihihan  8kwe  Deatar, 

Nearing  the  confines  of  Nubia,  I  met  with  a  group  of  dark-visaged 
people,  one  of  whom  towered  in  manlj  stature  above  the  rest,  mani- 
festly a  superior,  whose  will  was  law.  Him  I  approached,  and  draw- 
ing upon  mj  stock  of  Arabic  to  its  utmost,  with  some  aid  from  mj 
man  Mahmoud,  I  found  no  difficulty  in  striking  the  key-note  to  his 
ready  colloquial  powers. 

He  was  a  Nubian  Slave  dealer,  on  his  way  north  into  Egypt,  to  dis- 
pose of  his  stock  in  trade,  the  sable  children  of  the  deserts 

And  do  you  sell  your  own  countrymen  ?  said  I.  No,  he  never  did 
that,  they  were  not  Nubians  he  dealt  in,  but  negroes  from  the  regions 
beyond,  from  Sennaar,-  Darfur,  and  Kardofan.  He  would  not  be 
guilty  of-  selling  a  Nubian — ^that would  be  monstrous! 

But  Nubians  are  bought  and  sold — ^are  they  not?  He  replied,  that 
they  were  to  some  extent,  but  not  much ;  they  were  a  very  superior 
people. 

But  have  you  no  scruples  in  seizing  people  of  another  nation  or  tribsi 
and  forcing  them  away  from  friends  and  country,  to  sell  them  into 
Slavery  ?  O,  he  never  did  that,  was  the  quick  reply.  He  bought  them 
already  captured,  already  separated  from  friends,  and  in  the  market| 
and  if  he  had  not  bought  them,  somebody  else  would. 

And  who  captures  them?  Who  tears  them  from  their  homes?  Who 
brings  them  into  market  ?  Sometimes,  he  said,  they  were  captives 
taken  by  a  victorious  tribe,  and  sometimes  they  were  hunted  down  by 
bad  men  who  made  it  a  busuiess.  The  wild  Arabs  (Bedouins),  he 
said,  were  great  men-stealers,  and  were  the  terror  of  the  solitudes  of 
the  desert.  Tbey  would  lie  concealed  for  days,  watching  their  oppor- 
tunity to  seize  upon  the  natives,  as  they  crossed  the  desert  alone,  or  in 
small  groups,  from  village  to  village.  Moimting  their  well-trained 
steeds,  they  would  give  chase,  bounding  over  the  desert  like  thegazelle, 
and  the  poor  terrified  creatures,  like  a  brood  of  chickens  at  the 
approach  of  a  hawk,  would  flee  every  way  in  aflfright;  but,  no  hiding 


THB  SLAVB  DSALEB.  309 


place  oould  they  find.  Howling  with  despair,  thej  were  forced  awaj 
Into  Slavery.  He  could  never  be  guilty  of  such  a  thing  as  that  He 
never  made  any  man  a  Slave,  but  as  somebody  would  buy  them,  he 
might  as  well  make  the  speculation  as  any  one  else. 

I  asked  him  if  the  business  was  profitable  1  Not  very,  he  replied, 
«o  many  of  them  died,  (at  least  one  third),  before  he  got  them  to  mar- 
iLCt,  and  then  there  was  so  little  demand,  and  the  price  was  so  low, 
(not  more  than  ten  pounds  a  head)  that  there  was  very  little  to  be 
made ;  not  good  business,  he  added,  like  it  is  in  your  country,  where 
there  is  such  a  great  demand,  and  great  prices,  and  where  slaves  do  all 
the  work. 

This  brought  me  to  a  full  stop.  *'  Not  profitable  like  it  is  in  your 
oountry ! "  I  felt  like  retiring,  but,  rallying  again,  I  demanded  an  ex- 
planation. The  amount  of  it  was,  that  in  one  of  his  expeditions  into 
Egypt,  he  had  met  with  a  Dr.  Hunt,  (I  think  that  is  the  name)  from 
Louisiana,  who  had  given  him  a  most  glowing  account  of  our  *'  peculiar 
institutions,"  and  he  was  on  tiptoe  to  know  more  about  the  matter. 

I  told  him,  that  very  Irue,  slavery  existed  to  a  shamefiil  extent  in 
my  country,  but  it  was  generally  admitted  to  be  a  very  great  wrong 
to  humanity,  and  that  efforts  were  making  to  put  an  end  to  it  among 
US. 

He  agreed  with  me,  that  it  was  wrong,  and  said,  that  after  he  had 
made  another  hundred  pounds,  he  intended  to  give  up  the  business. 

P.  S.  Since  this  conversation  occurred.  Slavery  has  been  abolbhed  in 
Egypt,  and  if  my  Nubian  friend  is  still  intent  upon  another  hundred 
pounds  before  he  gives  up  the  business,  whither  will  he  direct  his  steps 
to  get  away  from  the  advancing  light  of  civilization  ?  I  have  not  yet 
seen  announced  his  arrival  upon  our  shores.  And,  should  he  come  to 
this  inviting  field,  it  is  by  no  means  certain,  that  he  might  not  find  the 
system  of  slavery  in  our  country  of  so  different  a  ty  pejfrom  that  of  Egypt, 
as  it  was,  tiiat  his  sensibilities  might  revolt  at  the  idea  of  embarking 
in  the  traffic  Slaves  ihere^  I  found,  were  the  inmates  of  the  fimiilies 
of  their  owners,  as  much  as  their  own  children  were,  being  treated 
with  much  kindness  and  indulgence,  while  the  upward  path  to  distinc- 
tion, was  equally  open  to  them.  And  when  they  rose  to  distinction, 
so  far  were  they  from  being  ashamed  of  their  former  condition,  that 
they  boasted  of  it,  while  all  around  them  were  ready  to  award  to  them 
the  credit  of  having  risen  by  their  merits.  Such  a  one,  »ud  the  great 
Pacha,  naming  one  of  his  generals,  ^  has  the  best  connections — hi  wa$ 

Still  we  should  like  to  hear,  that  Ahmed  had  made  his  appearance 
among  us,  and  to  listen  to  the  audible  expression  of  his  moral  refleo- 


sio  hAJsm  or  thb  ftrakidb. 

tions  upon  witQeesiiig  the  n«w,  and  (to  liiiii),  atnoige  pham  nUdi 
American  ^averf  would  present. 

We  met  him  tiie  second  time  in  Oairo,  on  our  retmn.  A  nnmlMr 
more  of  his  slaves  had  died,  and  he  had  disposed  of  the  remidnder  sk> 
low  as  soarcelj  to  save  himself.  He  aided  me  much,  both  by  counsel 
and  active  effort,  in  fitting  out  a  caravan  to  cross  the  **  Long  Desert,** 
for  whidi  I  shall  ever  hold  him  in  grateful  remembraaoe. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 
FloaHnf;  dovm  Oie  Nile — Sketchet  of  the  Oom,  and  of  ihe  Ikutem  and  Western 

Having  reached  the  end  of  my  journey  in  a  southerly  direction,  and 
finished  my  explorations  at  this  point,  we  were  ready  to  set  out  on 
our  return.  As  the  north  wind  was  still  blowing,  the  long  sweeps  to 
which  the  sails  were  attached,  were  disengaged  firom  their  fiiBtettings, 
and  laid  upon  the  deck,  extending  from  end  to  end,  and  the  boat,  tiios 
dismantled  was  aband<»iied  to  the  current,  there  being  nothing  but  tbe 
naked  hull  to  oppose  resistance  to  the  wind.  Very  little  progress  wi(p 
made  during  the  night,  however,  for  I  never  awaked,  without  finding 
the  boat  upon  a  sand-bar  and  the  men  all  asleep.  And  after  arousing 
diem,  and  getting  again  afloat,  but  little  time  would  be  passed  belbre 
they  would  all  be  sound  asleep  again,  and  the  boat  as  &st  aground  aa 
it  was  before,  a  contingency  which  was  guarded  against  during  the  daj 
to  a  considerable  extent,  by  the  use  of  poles.  Thus  abandoned,  it 
floated  like  a  Ic^,  sometimes  bow  foremost,  and  sometimes  stem,  but 
oftener  with  its  length  across  the  stream,  and  making  a  speed  of  about 
forty  miles  a  day  and  a  night  It  was  rather  an  uncouth  way  of  sailing, 
but  better  than  no  way  at  all,  and  we  must  either  submit  to  it  or  stay 
where  we  were  until  the  wind  should  come  round,  a  duinge  which 
might  not  occur  for  many  days,  and  which  did  not  until  we  had  floated 
seven  hundred  miles  down  the  stream.  An  excellent  opportunity, 
however,  was  thus  afforded  me  to  explore  the  country,  and  note  down 
the  results. 

Hie  most  tedious  portion  of  the  way  of  course,  lies  through  the  bar- 
ren mountain  defile  to  which  the  valley  of  die  Nile  contracts  toward 
the  southern  boundary  of  Egypt,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  there  beii^ 
nothing  to  relieve  the  eye  for  more  than  a  hundred  miles,  save  the 
buried  ruins  of  Ombus,  aud  the  quarries  of  Silsily ,  and  there  is  neither 
opportunity,  nor  temptation  to  ramble  upon  the  banks. 


CTB  XISTSXET  IHCBBIBr*  III 

As  we  are  floatiiig  peei  this  dreaiy  waste,  I  wiU  beguile  the  tedium 
of  the  waj  by  giying  some  account  of  the  deserts,  between  which  re* 
poses  the  lovely  valley  through  which  the  Nile  threads  its  way  to  the 
sea,  and  the  information  I  shall  give,  will  not  be  less  valuable  for  not 
having  been  obtained  as  the  result  of  my  own  personal  observation.  It 
would  give  me  great  pleasure  to  be  able  to  say,  that  I  had  seen  it  all, 
but  I  ooold  not  go  every  where,  and  see  everything.  Fortunately, 
however,  I  have  fiillen  in  with  an  intelligent  and  enterprising  traveler, 
from  whose  diary  I  transcribe  the  following  fiusts : 

Eastward,  between  the  Nile  and  l^e  Bed  Sea,  the  desert  varying 
from  80  to  147  miles  across,  is  broken  into  a  succession  o(  mountain 
ridges,  hills  and  valleys,  which  latter  present  patches  of  coarse  herbage 
here  and  l^ere,  well  adapted  to  the  appetite  and  masticating  powers  of 
tlie  Camel.  The  whole  region  is  sparsely  inhabited  by  Bedouin 
Arabs,  who  live  in  tents,  and  sustain  themselves  mainly  .by  Camel- 
breeding,  for  supplying  the  f}gyptian  market,  principally  at  Esne. 
They  also  bring  gum,  senna,  and  some  charcoal  made  from  the  acacia 
trees,  to  the  same  market. 

Through  this  dreary  region,  from  Coptos  on  the  Nile,  below  Thebes 
(now  in  ruins),  to  Berenice  on  Uie  Red  Sea  nearly  opposite  Assouan, 
there  was,  in  the  time  of  the  Romans,  a  great  commercial  thoroughfare, 
by  means  of  which  intercourse  with  India  was  kept  up.  Ten  wells, 
marking  the  different  stages  on  the  route,  still  exist,  though  it  was  long 
^nce  abandoned  for  a  much  shorter  one  from  the  same  point  on  the 
Nile  to  Cosseir  on  the  Red  Sea  nearly  opposite,  the  latter  being  only 
eighty  miles,  while  the  former,  running  obliquely,  was  250  miles.  The 
Cbssier  route  is  traveled  by  the  great  annual  Caravan  of  upper  Egypt 
m  its  pilgrimi^e  to  the  tomb  of  the  prophet,  which  returns  laden  with 
the  gum,  fruits,  and  spices  of  Arabia. 

Berenice  is  also  in  ruins,  though  the  harbor  is  said  to  be  a  good  one. 
8ome  seventy  miles  to  the  north  of  it,  and  twenty-five  miles  frem  the 
sea,  are  to  be  seen  the  Emerald  Mountains,  once  so  famous  for  the 
]pfedous  stones  they  yielded,  rearing  themselves  up  to  a  height  often 
thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 

Occasionally,  here  and  there,  a  little  verdure,  a  few  date  trees,  a 
well  and  a  grottoe,  mark  the  spot  where  some  anchorite  wore  away  his 
life  under  tbe  rigid  austerities  of  his  order.  Two  Monasteries  sur- 
rounded by  date,  olive,  and  apricot  orchards,  on  the  Red  Sea,  and  occu- 
pied by  Copts,  still  exist 

A  few  wild  animals,  as  the  Hyena,  the  Jackal,  the  wild  dog,  the 
ftntslopie,  and  the  gaaselle,  claim  tikis  desert  as  their  own. 

Hie  western  side,  of  the  valley  vf  the  Nile  is  bordered  by  the  LyT>- 


9li  LAKD  OF  THB  PTKAiCZDa 

iMi  dMort^  which  loosas  itself  ui]thfl|s^reftt;;d6«ert  of  Sihar%  die  laktar 
•preading  itself  over  nearlj^  the  ^hole  of  northeni  Afrio»|  etratoli* 
ing  three  thousand  miles  awaj.  The  andents  repreeent  these  desests 
as  being  spotted  with  Islands  of  verdure,lBnd  oompare  them  to  aleop^ 
ard  skin.  These  green  spots  were  called  by  the  Greeks  Oases,  or 
^  Islands  of  the  blessed,"  all  else  being  one  vast  ocean  of  sand,  oAea 
driven  by  the  winds  in  clouds  which  darken  the  air,  overwhelming  and 
destroying  whole  caravans  which  make^their  way  across  them  by  the 
ud  of  the  North  Star,  the  heat  by  day  being  too  intense  for  trwriing. 
In  one  instance  two  thousand  persons^hus  perished. 

Again  I  /juote  from  the  diary  of  my  friend  :  Directly  opposite  to 
Tliebes,  six  or  seven  days  journey  into  the  Lybian  desert,  is  the  Great 
Oasis,  so  called,  consisting  of  several  patches  separated  by  sand  drifts^ 
and  extending  nearly  one  100  miles  northward^n  a  direction  par^allel 
with  the  J^Ue.  It  is  beautified  here  and  there  with  gardens  and 
palm  groves,  a  sure  indication  of  rivulets  of  water  running  throu^ 
them. 

Remains  of  ancient  Egyptian  architecture  similar  to  those  finmd 
upon  the  Nile,  are  to  be  seen  here,  and  among  them,  the  ruins  of  a 
liurge  temple,  the  columns,  cornice,  hyeroglyphical  symbols,  &a,  show- 
ing it  to  be  of  Egyptian  origin,  and  on  a  magnificent  scale. 

The  streets  of  the  principal  town,  £1  Kaijah,  are  not  more  than  four 
or  five  feet  wide,  are  purposely  made  tortuous,  and  covered  by  llie 
projecting  roo&  of  the  houses,  to  shut  out  the  sand,  whidi  may  fine> 
quently  be  seen  drifting  into  heaps  in  sight  of  the  town. 

Near  this  town  is  what  appears  to  be  another,  but  upon  nearing  i^ 
it  is  found  to  be  a  city  of  the  dead,  consisting^  square  structures  with 
domes,  and  some  of  them  with  corridors  running^all  round,  and  pre- 
senting a  very  beautiful  appearance  at  a  little  distance,  there  bdng  not 
less  than  two  or  three  hundred  of  them,  all  containing  mummies,  or 
fragments  of  them.  Some  of  them  are  of  considerable  size;  one  haa 
aisles  like  our  churches,  and  has  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  pictures  of 
saints  upon  its  walls,  being  evidently  once^  appropriated  to  diristiaii 
worship.     These  tombs  are  thought  to  be  of  Roman  origin. 

Near  a  hundred  miles  to  the  west  of  the  Great  Oasis,  is  the  Western 
Oasis,  on  it  are  twelve  villages  of  Bedouin  Arabs.  £1  Oazar  is  the 
principal  town,  and  is  delightfully  located  upon  an  eminence,  and  sur- 
surrounded  with  groves  of  palm,  acacia,  citron,  and  other  trees.  Indigo 
Is  produced  here.    Some  ruins  are  also  to  be  seen  upon  this  oasis. 

Directly  north  of  the  Great  Oasis,  and  nearly  in  a  line  with  it^  is  the 
Little  Oasis,  which  is  a  valley  surmunded  by  high  rocks,  forming  a 
pUun  twelve  miles  long  and  six  biroad.     El  Kassar  is  the  principal 


TBM  OiJSm  aw  fSXWABL  «ia 


town,  and  there  ia  to  be  seen  a  well  lixtj  feet  deep,  whose  water 
rises  to  a  temperature  of  100  ^  at  midnight,  and  sinks  to  forty  (quite 
eold)  at  noon  every  day.  At  another  village  is  a  spring  whicJi  colors 
ndute  flannel  immersed  in  it  a  jet  black  in  twenty-four  hours,  an  effect 
doubtless  due  to  the  chemical  properties  of  the  earth  through  which 
the  water  passes. 

Hie  inhabitants  live  mostly  on  rice  of  a  very  poor  quality,  and 
tfxport  dates.    A  lai^e  part  of  the  land  is  at  present  barren. 

But  the  most  interesting  Oasis  is  that  of  Siwah,  the  northernmost 
one  of  them  all,  six  miles  in  length  and  four  in  width,  situated  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  west  of  ,the  Nile,  its  northern  ex- 
tremity being  nearly  opposite  to  Cairo.  The  land  is  very  fertile,  and 
produces  abundantly.  In  its  gardens  are  to  be  seen  the  date,  the 
pomegranite,  the  fig,  the  olive,  the  vine,  the  apricot,  the  plum,  and 
even  the  apple.  So  productive  of  dates  is  this  Oasis,  that  nine  thous- 
and camel  loads  are  said  to  have  been  exported  from  it  in  a  single 
year,  an  amount  which  seems  incredible. 

The  principal  town  is  a  perfect  sugar  loaf  in  form,  being  built 
around  a  conical  hill,  and  its  narrow  winding,  covered  streets,  are  like 
stair  cases,  and  are  illuminated  with  lamps  at  noon-day. 

The  houses  are  very  high,  a  story  being  added  every  time  a  son  is 
married.  The  town  is  divided  into  two  quarters,  the  upper  being  oc- 
cupied by  married  people,  and  the  lower  by  bachelors  and  widowers, 
the  latter  not  being  allowed  to  be  out  after  sundown,  but  at  the  peril  of 
a  fine. 

Upon  this  Oasis  are  to  be  seen  what  are  supposed  to  be  remains  of 
the  fiuiious  temple  of  Jupiter  Ammon,  whose  oracle  Alexander  crossed 
die  desert  to  consult  The  various  tribes  upon  these  oases,  also  those 
in  the  east^n  desert,  are  naturally  subject  to  Egypt,  and  pay  some 
tribute.  Some  of  these  tribes  are  well  ordered  communities,  and  seem 
to  be  hospitable,  while  others  are  little  better  than  free-booters,  prey- 
ing upon  each  other,  and  upon  all  who  come  in  their  way. 

Though  these  green  spots  were  designated  by  a  Greek  term  suggea- 
tlve  of  paradisaic  delights,  they  could  not  have  been  regarded  as  very 
desirable  places  of  abode,  for  both  Greece  and  Rome  made  them  their 
Botany  Bay.  To  these  solitudes  of  the  Lybian  desert,  State  criminals^ 
induding  Ministers  of  the  christian  church,  were  not  unfrequently  con- 
demned to  waste  their  days  in  hopeless  banishment,  in  the  second  and 
third  centuries. 


3QM  LAftD  ov  fm  rasuLVoa 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

We  are  still  in  the  Narrows,  which  eke  out  the  valliij  of  the  Niloi  it 
the  southern  extremity  of  E^ypt,  I  and,  have  just  seen  a  sight  It 
was  what  seemed  a  log,  rolling  itself  over  and  over  down  the  beaeh 
into  the  water,  but  was  in  fiict  a  crocodile.  Being  short  legged,  and 
not  very  swift  of  foot,  the  crocodile  takes  this  method  of  tumbling 
itself  into  the  water,  in  case  of  sudden  alann. 

This  species  of  the  lizard  tribe,  as  seen  here,  is  sometimes  thirty 
feet  in  length,  and  ten  in  girth.  It  is  covered  with  scales,  which  re- 
mst  a  musket  ball,  and  has  an  enormous  mouth,  opening  quite  to  its 
ears,  studded  with  two  rows  of  teeth  in  each  jaw  which  lock  into  each 
other.     It  is  noted  for  stratagem  and  blood-thirstiness,  taking  its  prey  ^ 

by  surprise.  To  this  end,  it  lies  perfectly  still,  or  floats  quietly  along 
like  a  log,  just  even  with  the  sur&ce  of  the  water,  apparently  heedless 
of  everything,  until  within  reach  of  its  prey,  when,  with  a  sweep  of  its 
tiul,  it  is  scooped  into  its  expanded  jaws.  Cattle,  men  and  dogs,  are 
said  to  be  its  &vorite  morsels.  Its  home  is  in  the  water,  but  it  fre- 
quently crawls  out  upon  the  land,  where  it  lies  in  a  quiescent  state,  bat 
upon  being  alarmed,  it  hurries  back  into  its  native  element  in  the  un- 
ceremonious manner  above  described.  Its  roar  is  terrific,  like  that  of 
some  fiend,  breaking  through  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  causing  one's 
hair  fiurly  to  stand  on  end. 

Hie  crocodile  of  course  was  a  sacred  animal  with  the  ancient  Egyp- 
^ans.  It  was  not  allowed  to  be  killed,  and  was  often  made  a  pet  of, 
while  it  lived,  aud  embalmed  when  dead.  Herodotus,  (450  years  B. 
C),  speaking  of  the  people  of  Thebes,  and  of  those  at  lake  Meros,  of  his 
time,  says,  ^  each  person  has  a  tame,  pet  crocodile,  with  pendants  cf 
glass  and  of  gold  in  his  ears,  bracelets  about  his  fore  feet,  and  he  gives  * 
him  his  regular  allowance  of  food  daily,  and  when  he  dies,  he  is  em- 
Mmed,  and  placed  m  the  sacred  tombs." 

UmA  other  monster  of  the  Nile,  the  hippopotamus,  seems  t»  hare 
netired  from  Egypt,  andisonly  to  bemetwith  above  the  cataraot.  It 
.would  well  be  worth  a  week's  journey  to  see  this  eMtraordinary  animal, 
whkh  haa  been  pretty  well  identified  with  the  behemoth  of  Uie  scvip- 
tores. 

This  animal,  when  at  full  size,  is  some  fifteen  or  sixteen. feet  long, 
and  as  many  in  girth,  and  though  his  legs  are  very  short,  he  stands 
six  or  seven  feet  high.    He  is  destitute  of  scales,  and  yet  his  skin  is  so 


\^]LD  AUDCAia  afis 


Ithck  aikd  solid,  lis  to  be  proof  against  a  muslcet  ball.  In  its  raw  state 
it  !*  wiy  and  pared,  and  rolled  into  wliips,  whidi,  in  the  hands  of  severe 
ttiat^etv,  infliot  eniel  chastisement,  and  of  course  are  in  great  demon^ 
Bad  in  general  nse  in  bastinadoing,  &c.  Its  teeth  are  used  by  dentistis 
for  the  manufiicture  of  artificial  ones.  No  animal,  not  even  the  el^ 
'phiint,  has  so  strong  a  build. 

ft  is  with  some  show  of  reason,  that  this  animal  has  been  pointed  out 
as  tfe  Monster  of  the  book  of  Job,  "  whose  strength  is  in  his  loins," 
whose  "bones  are  as  bars  of  iron,"  which  "eateth  grass  like  an  ox," 
which  **  lieth  under  the  shady  trees,"  and  "  under  tbe  covert  of  the 
repeds  and  the  fens,"  and  "  encompassed  about  by  the  willows  of  the 
brook."  From  this  description,  it  is  manifest,  that  he  could  not  have 
been  if^ea  monster,  but  must  have  been  an  amphibious  one  of  a  large 
Tiver.  He  is  not  to  be  identified  with  the  rhinoceros,  though  of  the 
same  genus,  the  latter  being  a  native  of  India. 

There  is  a  little  creature,  which  may  often  be  seen  here,  at  the  close 
of  ^e  day,  stealing  across  the  fields  and  along  the  river  bank,  looking 
eaitiestly  about,  and  listening,  to  avoid  danger,  while  it  scents  out  its 
-prey  with  fatal  preciMon.  It  is  the  Ichneumon,  upon  its  mission  of 
destruction,  hunting  out  the  eggs  of  the  crocodile,  and  other  destruct- 
ive and  poisonons  reptiles,  eating  some  and  destroying  the  rest,  leading 
"no  stone  unturned  "  to  accomplish  its  purpose. 

This  diminutive  animal  is  said  to  be  easily  domesticated,  and  to  be 
very  much  at  home  in  the  family  of  which  it  is  the  inmate. 

In  the  solitude  of  the  eastern  desert,  between  the  Nile  and  the  Red 
Sea,  along  the  valleys  which  yield  a  scanty  herbage,  can  be  seen  those 
delicatdy  formed  and  timid  creatures,  the  antelope  and  the  gazelle, 
quietly  grazing,  or  bounding  away  with  the  fleetness  of  a  bird  of  the 
air,  at  the  i^proach  of  man. 

In  the  same  desert,  which  is  the  home  of  these  most  harmless  and 
timid  of  all  animals,  dwells  also  that  most  ferocious,  blood-thirsty,  and 
hideous-looking  of  the  whole  animal  tribe,  t^e  hyena,  whidi  prowls 
about  the  grave,  and  gnaws  its  sweetest  morsel  from  human  bones. 

More  fit  companion  with  the  hyena,  in  these  solitudes,  is  the  Jackal. 
The  twain,  are  none  too  good,  however,  to  prey  upon  each  other,  and 
•both  are  in  their  best  moods,  when  scenting  oat  dead  bodies  upon  tile 
track  of  the  caravan.  But  the  bodies  of  animals  are  quietly  left  to^e 
jackal,  when  human  corpses  can  be  found  to  pamper  the  appetite  of  ibe 
hyena.  ' 

Of  th0  larger  camiverous  animals,  such  as  the  lion,  the  tiger,  thto 
leopard,  Uie  panther,  the  wolf,  and  the  bear,  there  are  none  either  in^ 
Egypt,  or  the  contiguous  deserts,  there  being  no  forests  to  dhelter  them 


816  LAND  OF^THB  PTRAlODa 

in  the  vallej  of  the  Nile,  and  nothing  on^whioh  they  can  subottin  the 
solitudes  of  the  desert  For  the  same  reason,  the  different  kinds  of 
game  so  abmidant  in  the  forests  of  some  other  oountiies,  and  especially 
of  new  countries,  are  not  to  be  fouud  here.  The  rabbit,  however,  I 
have  seen  bounding  over  the  sands  of  the  desert  And  I  saw  what 
seemed  a^  species  of  fox  darting  from  mj  sight  amid  the  ruins  of  TliebesL 

Of  course  then,  the  variety  of  wild  animals,  and  of  game  of  every 
sort,  must  be  very  limited ;  both  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile  and  in  the 
deserts,  which  spread  themselves  out  on  either  hand. 

The  ^^  wild  beasts"  which  infested  the  desert  in  the  days  of  Abraham, 
and  to  which  Joseph  was  represented  by  his  brethren  as  having  fidlen 
a  prey,  while  on  their  journey  into  Egypt,  were  doubtless  the  same 
which  still  prowl  through  its  solitudes,  tiie  hyena  and  the  jackah  It  is 
not  the  wild  beasts  however,  but  the  wild  men  of  the  desert,  which 
are  now  the  terror  of  the  traveler. 

Whether,  among  the  highly  favored  animals  of  Egypt,  the  hyen* 
ever  attained  to  the  honors  of  deification  or  not,  it  certainly  had  as 
high  claims  to  divine  honors,  as  any  other  beast  One  would  have 
thought  that  the  trick  Cambyses,  the  Persian,  played  upon  the  defeD> 
ders  of  ancient  Pelusium,  would  have  shown  them  the  ridiculousness 
of  this  grovelling  devotion.  But  no,  as  they  saw  him  advancing  under 
the  protection  of  the  deities  they  worshipped,  the  cats  and  dogs,  which 
he  shrewdly  ordered  to  be  borne  in  front  of  his  army,  their  hearbs 
sank  within  them,  not  a  weapon  was  raised,  and  the  dty  fell  an  easy 
prey  to  the  conqueror. 

And  is  it  possible,  that  the  people  who  were  so  debased  as  to  wor- 
ship even  reptiles  as  deities,  were  the  authors  of  the  stupendous  works 
of  art  I  have  described  1  Even  so;  in  the  one  case,  tiiey  showed  an 
imbedlity  which  excites  our  pity  and  disgust:  in  the  other,  they  evinced 
a  boldness  of  conception,  and  a  power  of  execution  which  exdtes  our 
astonishment 

As  a  redeeming  consideration,  it  has  been  suggested,  however,  that^ 
as  Sabaism,  or  t^e  worship  of  the  luminaries  of  heaven,  was  theearli* 
est  and  purest  form  of  idolatry,  and,  as  several  of  the  different  oonst^- 
lations  or  groups  of  stars,  have  the  names  of  animals,  as  Taujros  (a 
bull),  Leo  (a  lion),  Aries  (a  ram),  Scorpio  (a  scorpion),  it  was  but 
natural  that  in  time  the  worshipper  should  transfer  his  regards  to  the 
animal  itself,  as  a  symbol  of  the  constellation,  and  that  gradually  the 
original  object  should  be  lost  sight  of,  tiie  animals  be  deified,  and  their 
number  multiplied  so  as  to  embrace  tiie  long  list  of  birds,  blasts  and 
Greying  things  to  which  the  ancient  Egyptians  bowed  themselves 
down. 


HUM  AK  NATUKB  IN  BGYFT.  317 


OHAPTEB  XXXVTL 

Amcni  naiurB  m  Egypt — eigJU  d^ftrtnl  $ort»  tf  foOcs  in  ofker  eofuntneB^-m^i  one  i^ 
wkom  iatahe  seen  in  Egypt 

Onward  we  drift,  and,  as  we  are  borne  along  by  die  flowing  tide,  I 
will  devote  the  passing  honr  to  the  new  and  strange  edition  of  human 
nature,  whose  ample  volume  is  opened  upon  me  here — ^a  theme  by  no 
means  less  fruitful  in  interest  to  me,  than  the  architectural  wonders  I 
have  described. 

Hie  opportunities  I  have  enjoyed  of  extending  my  acquidntanoe  even 
with  the  brute  creation,  have  passed  pleasantly  away.  Indeed,  it  is  one 
of  the  luxuries  of  travel,  to  ramble  through  zoological  gardens,  and 
note  new  and  strange  varieties  of  animals ;  and  as  I  have  passed  from 
country  to  country,  the  animah  peculiar  to  each  have  engrossed  a 
large  share  of  my  attention,  and  made  large  contributions  to  the  stock 
of  my  enjoyment. 

And  certainly,  not  less  have  the  new  and  strange  varieties  of  human 
kind  I  have  met  with,  interested  my  attention,  though,  there  may 
have  been  little  more  than  form  and  accent  to  identify  them. 

I  have  said,  that  there  is  nothing  in  Egypt  like  anything  I  had  ever 
aeen  before,  having  more  particular  reference  at  the  time  to  the  queer 
personal  appearance  of  certain  animals  I  was  describing.  But  the  re- 
mark applies  with  even  greater  force  to  the  people.  Never  have  I  seen 
such  a  type  of  human  nature  in  any  other  (iountry. 

By  way  of  illustration,  I  will  specify  the  various  classes  which  go  to 
make  up  the  bulk  of  the  population  of  most  countries  but  which  are 
not  to  be  met  with  in  Egypt 

Hiere  are  the  woe -begone  and  forlorn,  victims  of  misfortune  or  ill- 
treatment.  These  painful  objects,  to  be  met  with  in  all  our  thorough- 
fiires,  are  no  where  to  be  seen  in  Egypt,  The  wonderful  elasticity  of 
this  people  under  oppressions  far  more  grievous  to  be  borne,  than 
those  which  have  reduced  the  English  peasant  to  a  forlorn  remnant 
of  humanity,  presents  a  problem  which  I  brought  no  key  with  me  to 
unlock.  That  they  should  be  so  light  and  volatile,  so  brimful  of  en- 
joyment, singing  and  dancing  to  the  music  of  their  own  chains,  when 
one  would  look  to  see  them  howl  with  despair,  was  to  me  a  spectacle 
to  be  accounted  for  on  no  principle  of  human  nature  with  which  I  had 
become  acquainted.  True,  their  aspirations  are  so^lowly^  their  expec- 
tations so  small,  and  their  wants  so  few,  as  to  place  them  well  nigh 
below  the  reach  of  misfortune,  and  though  it  does  reach  them,  it  is 


aiS  LAlfD  0¥  THJS  PYRAIGOS. 


"T 

periiapB  disanned  of  its  sting  by  Qi&t/ataUsm;  which  is  a  characteristic 
of  the  Moslem  faith. 

And  besides,  they  liave  a  resource  In  oofiee  and  the  pipe,  which 
never  fiuls  them.  Weary  and  drooping,  and  taciturn,  as  they  may  he, 
these  mild  stimulants  exhiierate  them  at  once,  and  they  will  chatter 
lilce  the  swallow,  and  sing  like  the  lark.  They  rise  in  die  morning  all 
unstrung,  silent  and  inert,  but  no  sooner,  have  they  taken  a  few  whiA 
of  the  pipe,  than  they  begin  to  brighten  up,  as  though  some  magic  in* 
fluence  had  come  over  them — their  tongues  are  loosed  at  once  and 
everything  is  in  tune.  I  have  often  entered  their  villages  before  sun- 
rise in  the  morning,  but  never  so  early  that  I  did  not  find  them  ool* 
lected  as  above,  taking  deep  draughts  of  inspiration  from  oofiee  and  the 
pipe.  They  drink  their  cofiee  without  milk  or  cream,  and  without 
settling,  and  when  I  call  for  a  cup,  they  invariably  drink  down  ths 
grounds  which  1  have  left  at  the  bottom,  smacking  their  lips,  as 
though  1  had  lefl  the  best  part  for  them. 

But,  1  am  sorry  to  say,  that,  with  all  their  social,  merry-making 
habits,  they  are  very  apt  to  get  into  a  broil.  Indeed,  this  results  al- 
most of  necessity,  from  these  very  qualities,  huddled  together  as  they 
are,  in  their  villages.  And  it  is  really  a  spectacle  to  see  them  in  foil 
fight,  making  passes  at  each  other  as  though  they  were  dealing  dei^ 
at  every  blow,  and  pouring  out  threatenings  and  slaughter  from  their 
open  throats — and  that  is  all.  I  have  often  seen  tliem  thus  engaged, 
but  never  saw  them  courageous  enough  to  oomo  to  blows,  or  do  any- 
thing more  than  beat  the  air  with  their  fists  and  each  other  with  thahr 
tongues.  And  it  is  quite  as  much  of  a  spectacle  to  see  how  readily 
they  will  cool  ofl^  embrace  each  other,  and  become  jubilant  over  their 
coffee  and  the  pipe. 

There  are  no  moody  men  haters  here,  who,  soured  by  disappoint- 
ment, and  embittered  by  ill-usage,  wrap  themselves  up  in  sulle»  seolu- 
sion^  a  prey  to  tormenting  passions, — ^a  most  revolting  spedncte 
certainly.  These  people  never  thus  torment  themselves  to  death,  fool^ 
ishly  imagining  that  in  so  doing  they  are  taking  vengenoe  upon  othm 
They  must  be  admitted  to  take  the  matter  quite  philosophieaUy. 

Tlien  there  are  your  hard-^ced  men,  men  who  bear  upon  their  oo«n- 
tenanoes  the  impress  of  a  reckless  and  hardened  character,  ^*  hviiig 
epistles^  known  and  read  of  all  men."  But  I  do  not  remember  to  hsfe 
seen  a  real  hard-£Med  man  in  all  Egypt,  although  1  have  found  leas 
moral  honesty  here  than  in  any  other  country.  The  truth  ie,  they  be- 
come rogues  without  the  hardening  prooess  of  breaking  through  the 
moral  restraints  which  a  higher  standard  of  morality  would  impoM> 
Of  oourae,  the  desperation  of  character  which  that  process  creatos,  and 


WluCh  impravM  ite  imnge.  and  snperaeriptioa  upon  the  coimtonaooBv 
cannot  be  reached  in  a  countiy  where  there  aire  no  sodi  TMtramta  to 
W  oyereome  in  the  downward  stride.  Your  attendairiiii  may  wear 
pteasaot  and  beBignant  oountenaiioeB,  and  be  really  kind  and  gmlle^ 
aiid  yei  have  no  oorapanetions  in  robbing  you  the  first  fitvaraUa 
«pp<»rtiiiiity. 

Nor  ar^  the  gold-hardened,  who  ont  ihemseiyes  off  from  all  sympa- 
thy with  the  race,  setting  their  feoes  as  a  flint  against  the  most  toneh- 
ing  appeals  of  humanity,  to  be  found  here.  These  people  will  b6th  beg 
and  steal  to  get  money,  but  they  will  divide  their  last  morsel  with  a 
M^ow  man. 

Demure^  tkoufihtful  men,  constitute  a  considerable  class  in  most 
countries.  But  there,  are  no  contemplative  beings  here,  moving  about 
with  downcast  eyes,  absorbed  in  their  own  reflections,  and  insensible  to 
everything  around  them.  The  Egyptian  is  not  a  thinking  being,  any 
fbrther  than  his  necessities  require,  as  an  eating,  drinking,  merry-nubk- 
ing  animal — all  else  may  go  to  the  winds  for  what  he  cares.  No  lines 
of  deep,  absorbing  thought  are  graven  on  his  countenance. 

Nor  has  care,  gnawing  at  the  vitals  and  corroding  thei  life  away, 
drawn  its  traces  upon  him.  There  are  no  care-worn,  anxious-visaged 
beings,  hurrying  along  the  streets  here,  as  though  chased  by  some 
fiend. 

There  are  no  slow  spoken,  word-measurers  among  the  Arab  popula- 
tion of  Egypt.  They  never  stop  to  think  how  much  dignity  they  can 
get  up,  and  what  oracles  of  wisdom  they  can  pass  off  their  empty  heads 
for,  by  putting  a  restraint  upon  the  tongue.  That  would  be  torture — 
the  Egyptian  is  essentially  a  talking  being,  and  talk  he  will,  fast,  long 
and  loud.  Lone  and  solitary  confinement  would  be  death  to  him.  A 
solitary  goose,  or  a  solitary  pigeon  might  live  it  out  somehow,  but  a 
solitary  Egyptian  with  no^ng  to  talk  to,  would  be  the  lonesomest  of 
all  solitary  beings,  and  would  probably  die  with  inconsolable  grief. 

Again,  there  are  no  sneaks  hi  Egypt.  1  have  found  them  every- 
where else.  England  is  full  of  them,  and  our  own  country  has  enough 
and  to  spare.  There  are  poverty-smitten  sneaks,  purse-worshipping 
sneaks,  down-bred  and  natural-bred  sneaks,  literary  sneaks,  moral 
sneaks,  and  sneaks  in  general,  a  numerous  tribe,  who  crawl  at  the  feet 
of  their  superiors,  with  scarcely  a  suflicient  stock  of  manhood  to  lift  up 
their  heads  and  look  one  in  the  &ce.  But  I  have  never  yet  met  with 
the  first  sneak  in  Egypt.  The  most  abject  of  them  all  will  accost  you 
with  uplifted  head,  and  with  a  sprightliness  of  air,  and  independanoe  of 
bearing  which  confounds  you.    Said  an  Englisman  to  me,  ^  Why  those 


ttO  H0TB8  OF  FOBBiaN  TRAVBL. 

fellows  will  speak  to  you  just  as  though  they  ware  your  equal '*•—<* 
strange  speotade  to  him. 

The  beggars  eyen,  are  not  an  exception.  In  other  countries,  the 
beggars  will  come  sneaking  about  you,  making  up  hideous  fnces,  whin> 
ing,  and  telling  their  pitiful  tales.  But  you  will  not  find  a  beggar  in 
all  Egypt  to  do  that  He  neither  sneaks  about  you,  nor  makes  up 
&oes,  nor  whines,  nor  tells  pitiful  tales,  to  move  your  sympathy.  Qa 
the  other  hand,  he  approaches  you  like  one  who  has  a  demand  upon 
your  purse,  and  laughs  in  your  face  while  he  cries,  "  bucksheiah  !  buck- 
sheith  P^  and  if  you  do  not  respond  at  the  first  call,  he  only  bawls  the 
louder.  He  seems  to  regard  himself  as  a  component  part  of  humanity^ 
and  you  as  another,  and  it  looks  to  him  quite  dear,  that  if  you  are 
blessed  with  more  of  the  good  things  of  this  life  than  himself  you 
ought  to  divide  with  him,  as  readily  as  he  would  divide  his  crust 
with  you. 

The  peasantry  of  Egypt  are  literally  all  beggars.  In  passing  along 
the  river  bank,  and  through  the  fields  and  villages,  the  cry  of  '*  buok- 
sheish  !*'  is  eternally  ringing  in  one's  ear ;  nor  is  it  a  mere  pretence  to 
get  money  ;  while  they  approach  you  thus  unceremoniously,  they  are 
are  more  needy  than  most  of  the  whining,  canting  beggars  of  other 
countries. 

But  that  they  should  exhibit  such  on  independance  of  bearing, 
kicked,  cuffed,  pounded,  and  trampled  on  as  they  are — ^that  they  should 
not  lie  down  and  crawl,  and  supplicate,  like  the  oppressed  of  other 
countries,  is  a  mystery  to  me,  and  to  be  accounted  for  only  on  the 
supposition  that  ttiey  have  so  little  self-respect,  as  to  fed  no  sense  of 
degradation  under  their  oppressions. 


BUBOPEAK  &AMBIJ6&  tSl 


t 


Oil 


JOURNAL' LEA VES  OFj^EliROPEAN  RAMBLE. 

BT  B.  BwravMM  DurnsLD. 


CHAPTER  I. 

On  Board  of  Steamer  "  Asia,"  July  4th,  1855. 

When  the  good  steamer  ^^  Asia"  swung  loose  from  her  dock,  in  the 
port  of  Boston,  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1855,  amid  the  farewell  bless- 
ings of  friends  and  the  cheers  of  the  multitude,  I  felt  that,  of  all  the 
days  in  the  year,  this  was  the  very  best  on  which  to  leave  one's  Native 
Land.  A  stiff  breeze,  blowing  at  the  moment  of  casting  off,  whirled 
our  bulky  vessel  backward  and  toward  the  shore,  unexpectedly  calling 
into  requisition  the  services  of  an  anchor  ere  the  crew  could  steadj 
her  to  the  proper  course.  The  great  gun  roared  over  the  water 
precisely  at  12  o'clock,  and  demonstrated  the  punctuality  of 
the  Captain  to  the  hour  of  advertised  departure.  The  bells  of 
Boston  rang  joyfully  a  parting  peal ;  flags  waved  smilingly  fVom 
every  mast  along  ihe  wharves;  lai^e  steamers  and  small  crafl  of 
every  description  floated  by  us,  crowded  with  excursionists,  both  old 
and  young;  brave  old  Bunker  Hill  seemed,  in  his  granite  shaft 
to  have  taken  giant  form,  and,  high  above  the  city,  waived  after 
us,  from  either  hand,  that  glorious  flag  once  so  gallantly  defended  athis  ** 
base,  and  charged  us,  in  the  name  of  Liberty,  to  remain  loyal  to  t^e 
Land  of  our  birth. 

We  all  take  it  for  granted,  while  we  toil  at  the  heavy  oar  of  daily 
labor,  that  patriotism  dwells  at  our  heart  and' the  love  of  the  Union  is 
deeply  rooted  about  its  living  fountains ;  but  let  a  man  set  his  sail  for 
foreign  shores  on  the  day  of  her  National  glory,  when  the  great  heart 
of  the  Nation  is  palpitating^with  patriotic  emotion,  and  ascending  in 
grateful  shouts  like  sweet  incense  to  Heaven  ;  let  him  see  the  light  of 
her  beauty  shining*from  ten  thousand  flags,  all  streaming  her  heroio 
history  to  the  gentle  winds, — and  «then  remember  that  perchance,  like 
the  man  who  goethjnto  a  flir  country,  he  may  see  her  again  no  more 
forever — and,'[my  word  for  it,  he  will  realize  that  his  mmorpairug  is  a 
deeper  and  stronger  Uving  principle  wiihir^  than  he  had  ever  before 
imagined — ^that,  next  to  the  love  he  bears  his  Maker  and  his  mother, 
his  Native  Land  has  the  lai^est  share. 

Thus  were  we  surrounded  with  holy  influences,  as  our  black  and 

maasiye  Steamer  turned  ^her  bead  toward  the  sea,  and  oommenosd 
VOL.  I,  wo.  vu — 2L 


^ 


i 


KVROP£AN-  HAMWLBa 


bearing  us  out  upon  its  tumultuous  waves.  The  sailors  were  drag- 
ging home  the  heavy  cable  that  had  dropped  our  larboard  anchor, 
accompanying  their  labor  with  a  rough  chorus,  well  suited  to  thiair 
monotonous  task.  From  the  Navy  Yard  of  Boston,  gun  after  gun 
rolled  its  white  doud  of  smoke  across  the  harbor,  and  spoke  words  of 
&rewell  to  the  great  ship  so  soon  to  disappear  from  a  home  horizon. 
A  couple  of  sailors  stood  at  our  two  guns,  one  on  either  side  of  the 
bow,  and  awaited  orders  to  respond.  A  fat  and  burly  son  of  Neptune 
was>8uperinfeending  the  return  of  the  anchor  to  its  place.  Our  Captain 
akoodi  aloft  on  the  top  of  his  wheel-house ;  gay  streamers  floated  from 
"varioua  parts  of  the  rising  over  our  head,  one  for  each  Slat€s-*^«kd 
the  mighty  arm  of  the  engine  ^as  already  at  work,  turning  our  stot 
peadoufr  wheels.  Suddenly,  the  burly  o(!k)er  leaped  to  the  roof  of  the 
ibrward  cabin  and  issued  the  command — "Make  ready! — firel** 
Two  blaok-mouthed  iron  guns  thundered  forth  their  fiirenrall  sabilatioii 
firbm  our  larboard  bow,  another  pair  bellowed  from  our  starboaidj 
and  again  and  yet  again  they  spoke,  until  thirteen  gunsy  in.  honor  of 
the  old  thirteen  States^  had  rolled  their  echoes  across  Boston  Comoaen 
and  entered  the  ears  of  the  giant  on  Bunker  Hill.  This  tribute  4;i>  o«r 
National  birth*day,  from  a  vessel  at  whose  peak  floated  Si,  Geoqj^e)! 
eoosSf  was  gratefid  to  the  American  paasengens  on  board,  and  douUji 
ao  as  we  again,  swiept  down  past  the  white- washed  wharf  wfaer»'0iia 
Meads  were  gathered  waving  anew  their  farewell  blessings.  Soma 
climbed  to  the  top  of  the  spiles  and  fltttbered  handkerchieia  or  wwed 
their  hata  after  ua  until  they  slowly  faded  from  our  view.  Then  a 
sweeping  curve  in  the  course  of  the  Steamer  hid  the  crowded  wfaavf 
from  sight,  and  broke  the  last  link  with  home,  leaving  with  us,  aa  the 
most  recent  evidence  of  our  Native  land,  only  the  wet  mud  hanging 
upon  the  flakes  of  the  anchor ! 

The  sailora  are  now  engaged  in  cleaning  up  and  covering  the 
brnaen  rails  of  the  {^omenade  dock  with  protecting  canvasa.  The  old 
guns  httVB  gone  to  sleep ;  ^tae  streamers,  after  receiving  the  salute 
rendered  us  by  the  dropping  of  the  flag  at  Fort  Independenee,  av«i 
bjMne*  off  under  the  arm  of  a  Jade  tar,  aa  curtains  to  hia  bunk»  mA 
the.  thunder  of  the  ^'  Asia's  "  wheelsis  now  steadily  sounding  over  the 
sea< 

AU  partiea,  wuifting  hack  long  sighs^  now  press  confusedly^  into  dm 
cabin,'  and  endeavor,  with  claret  and  cheese,  to  preserve  ai;  propen 
equanimity  of  spirits,  and  indulge  in  their  first  reoonnoitoEing  of  oqq 
another.  Here  are  two  hundred  abd  fifty  passengers,  neoeasarilj^^ehnl 
ttpi  yMk  eaeh  other  fikr  almost  a.  fi>rtnight,  and  oompellad  to  vuke 
aaqoaintanoe.    It  i8»  tharefomi  a  matter  of  some' anxiety:  to  know  n^ 


FIRST  OliAlVOB  AT  OLD  OCEAN.  S» 

jou  hare  on  board,  and  to  speculate  as  to  the  probable  sort  of  eom- 
panionsfalp  likelj  to  be  found  in  the  cabin  and  the  state  room. 

An  hour  has  passed,  and  we  are- again  upon  the  deck.  Hie  head- 
lands are  beginiAng'  to  fkde  fh)m  sight,  and  old  Ocean,  bathed  in  all 
Ins  cerulean  blue,  is  looking  us  square  in  the  fiice.  To  one  who,  for 
l^e  first  tim^,  passes  out  to  sea;  the  color  of  the  water  seems  singu- 
larly blue.  The  Western  lakes  show  an  emerald  snrfiiee,  whlW  the 
Teritable  Ocean  is  indeed  ^  darhly^  deeply^  beautifully  bine^  Most  of 
the  passengers  have  passed  up  to  the  promenade  deck,  where  somer 
are  comfortably  seated  beneath  the  awning  that,  as  yet,  shelters  fWnn 
the  sun ;  others  walking  arm  in  arm ;  and  others  still,  han^ng  pett- 
flWely  over  die  tafTrail,  dreaming  of  flriends^  in  the  retir. 

Not  vBry  remote  from  my  seat  is  a  yoraig  gentleman,  earnestly  en- 
gaged in  conversation  with  a  pleasant-fWced  lady  of  eighteen  or  t^vvnty 
— ^and  fragments  of  their  remarks  are  ov«rheflffd  by  their  neighbors. 
They  first  chatted  abont  the^sea  and  its  tides,  liien  i^  the  **StHr '^ 
papers,  then  of  the  poet?  of  Bnglaod,  next  those  of  Scotland  Gape.> 
oiaily  Pums^  fW>m  whom  they  both  quoted  fi'eely  and  periinenHy. 
Suddenly,  the  lady  begins  to  grow  silent ;  her  responses'  are  fhr^  attd 
strictly  monosyllabic;  her  hand  is  placed  to  herhettd,  she  complains 
of  uneasy  sensations— eiseliton,  *'  What  long  waves!  how  the' vessel 
irwings  between  them  P  Now  she  grows  "cold,^'  and  a  whiteness 
appeauB  about  her  mouth ;  her  eyes  swim  in  their  sockets'  like*  the- ship 
among  the  waves ;  she  '^  would  like  to  go  down  below,"  but  dare 
not  attempt  it.  Suddenly,  c^e  fhlls  on  the*  shonlders  of  her  com- 
panion, and  from  a  pair  of  rosy  lips  is'  expressed  a  very  decided 

apprehension  that  she  must Bah !  I  cannot  writer  the  word. 

It  has  already  disturbed  my  own  stomach ;  and,  though  it  fell  fhym  the 
lips  of  Venus  herself,  were  she  now  to  rise  from  tive  sea  and  utter  it 
over  our  bulwarks,  it  would  still  be  the  same  shocking,  abominable 
word  it  ever  was.  I  leave  her  to  the  mercy  of  her  gailant  corapanloii; 
and  esoape  forward.  The  perspiration  is  already  starting  on  my 
brow,  but  I  bare  it  to  the  breeze,  w^ich  is  freshening  up,  and  -ndly. 
Looking' over  the  bow,  I  observe  the  figure-head  to  be  that  of  a  fbnii^e 
roporesentlng  the  continent  of  "Asia."  In  her  right  hand^  she  holds' 
the  wealth  of  ^'  Omer  and  of  Ind ;"  in*  her  left,  a  beantifbl  bouquet  of 
ftesh  flowers.  Some  sailor  of  taste  and  sentiment  has  gathered  tbc 
pansy,  tholily,  the  daisy,  the  rose,  and  lodged  them  in  her- keeping:' 
From  wimt  country  home  had  they  been  cuQed  ?  Into  what  cottage' 
window  and  upon  what  bright  ftc^  had  they  that  morning'  IMced'f 
inner  nm  bad  srinted  tliem  in  hia  rising;  while  fresh'  with*  the  &t^»of 
lite  gttden;  he  would  kiss  thenr^  good  night**' amid  %ht  salt'spray  <^ 


334  EUROPEAN  RAMBLSa 

the  Ocean.  But  there  they  are,  extended,  apparently,  as  a  propitaa- 
tory  offering  to  the  stormy  King  of  the  Seas ;  and  I  accept  the  thought 
— nay,  more,  indulge  the  hope,  that  these  gentle  flowers  may  win  for 
U8|  at  his  hands,  gentle  bre-ezes  and  a  prosperous  voyage. 

We  dined  at  four  o'clock — ^that  is  to  say,  the  majority  of  the  passen- 
gers  did,  and  I  went  into  the  dining  saloon  in  their  company.  My  place 
had  been  wrongfully  taken  possession  of  by  a  clever  sort  of  a  Scotch- 
nuuif  and,  had  it  been  any  other  day  than  the  fourth  of  July,  all  claim 
to  it  would  probably  have  been  surrendered.  But  what  American  can 
concede  a  right  (even  if  it  be  no  more  than  a  seat  at  the  dinner  table), 
to  a  subject  of  Great  Britain,  on  ^the  day  of  independence?  My 
position  was  miuntained — and  yet  I  felt  like  the  dog  in  the  manger, 
for  my  appetite  seemed  to  have  been  lefl  on  shore,  and  after  swallow- 
ing a  spoonful  or  two  of  soup,  a  silent  monitor  within  ordered  me  to 
withdraw,  and  the  order  was  promptly  obeyed. 

On  reaching  the  deck,  1  beheld  undique  mare^  undiqne  ccdum.  The 
land  had  already  faded  from  view,  and  we  were  plunging  on  over  our 
watery  pathway  some  sixty  miles  from  Boston  Harbor.  Tottering 
forward,  1  located  myself  amidships,  on  the  stairs  that  ran  over  the 
larboard  wheel  house,  and  gave  myself  up  to  meditation.  I  am  not  a 
sailor — never  was,  and  in  the  years  to  come,  be  th^y  few  or  many, 
I  never  expect  to  be.  Whatever  Nature  may  have  designed  me  for, 
of  this  I  am  assured,  she  never  iatended  me  to  graduate  from  the 
school  of  Neptune.  Like  many  others,  similarly  organized,  I  can 
enjoy  the  billows  vastly  better  from  some  high  promonotory,  with 
good  foundations,  than  in  tumbling  upon  their  bosom.  The  power  of 
the  will,  I  knew,  was  oflen  almost  omnipotent,  and  here  was  a  fitting 
occasion  to  test  it.  A  cruel  conflict  had  already  begun  internally, 
which  seriously  threatened  my  peace,  yet  here  upon  the  wheel-house 
I  was  resolved  to  sit  and  conquer,  if  it  were  possible.  Many  of  the 
passengers  had  already  yielded  to  the  magic  influence  of  the  sea. 
Some  had  disappeared,  with  woe-begone  countenances,  to  their  bertha 
below.  Others  yet  maintained  a  very  questionable  control  of  thmr 
legs,  and,  with  commendable  zeal,  trotted  their  symptomatic  corpora* 
tions,  or  those  of  their  still  more  sensitive  lady  friends,  baekwarda 
and  forwards  over  the  promenade  deck.  The  sudden  sta^^er  or  the 
circuitous  reel,  on  their  part,  would  occasionally  send  a  pang  through 
me  which  threatened  an  immediate  destruction  of  my  precarioua 
quiet  But,  by  turning  the  eye  again  over  the  &r-ofr  waves — not 
looking  at  those  that  swept  directly  underneath, — ^I  recovered  a  little 
and  was  again  at  ease.  When  thus  situated,  one  begins  to  experience 
Ibe  first  wild  symptom  of  searsicknois    a  comparative  indifferenoe  to( 


MELANCHOLY  BEFLECTIOKS,— PBAOTICAL  KFFECTS         8M 

life— a  ^  doD't  care  ^  what  becomes  of  jouraelf  or  your  craft.  Yoar 
cpgitatioim  aro  somewhat  in  this  wise-— at  least,  mine  were :  ^  Should 
I  suddenly  become  nek  to  an  extent  involving  a  dash  toward  the  sid^ 
of  the  Steamer,  it  would  be  necessary  to  *  bow  the  head '  over  tiie 
iron  rod  running'along  the  top  of  the  wheel-house,  snd  there  I  would 
go.  But  then  suppose  the  sickness  to  increase,  as  it  certainly  would,' 
— the  exhausted  frame  must  gradually  sink  towards  the  roof  of  th<i 
busy  wheel  below,  and,  in  all  probability,  slip  \mder  the  rail  into  the 
boiling  sui^e.  No  one  would  be  likely  to  observe  that  a  passenger 
had  suddenly  stepped  out  of  the  ship,  or,  if  they  did,  exhausted  natsre 
could  not  sustain  itself  long  enough  for  a  rescue.*'  Then  the  utter 
indifference  with  which  you  contemplated  such  a  possibility  takes  yet 
stronger  hold,  and  you  begin  to  ftncy  that  it  would  be  a  pleasure — 
nay,  even  a  glory,  thus  to  go  out  from  the  world  by  Neptune's  wave- 
bound  gate.  You  wonder  why  the  discontented  ones  of  earth,  in 
whose  bosoms  hirked  suicidal  desire,  did  not  come  to  this  wheel* 
house,  snd,  in  the  solitude  of  the  night,  plunge  hence,  through  the 
boiling  waters,  into  that  mysterious  Land  toward  which  they  had  so 
long  and  so  unhappUy  journeyed.  You  may  fight  against  these  feel^ 
ings,  and  remind  your  fascinated  or  insane  spirit  that  a  wife  and  friends 
would  perchance  bemoan  such  an  exit  as  this — ^that  temporal  afiaiis 
still  have  obligations  upon  you  and  claim  your  return  to  land— -that 
perhaps  there  is  yet  a  happy  round  of  life  in  reserve,  if  you  will  only 
<x>nsent  to  receive  it ;  yet  still  there  appears  to  be  a  clapping  of  hands 
and  a  calling  of  voices  from  the  waves,  that  seem  almost  certain  to 
win  you  to  their  fatal  embrace.  Thus  are  you  exercised  and  tor> 
mented,  while  onward  rolls  the  black  ship, — and  suddenly  some  fnend 
recalls  you  to  conscious  life,  and  you  see  that  there  is  only  one  altenit 
ative,  and  that  is,  to  stick  to  the  ship,  and  be  willing  to  go  down  only 
when  she  goes — ^battling  through  your  distresses,  meanwhile,  as  best 
you  can. 

While  thus  musing  on  the  paddle-box,  up  comes  J  ■  ,  one  of  our 
passengers,  who  had,  in  the  morning,  been  so  eim;er  to  be  en  tcyage^ 
that  noon  appeared  as  tardy  as  midnight  in  its  coming.  But  what  a 
change !  He  drooped  all  over,  even  to  his  neatly-trimmed  moustache, 
and  as  he  drew  nigh,  revealed  the  fact  that  he  was  already  in  a  suffer^ 
ing>  condition.  The  pale  streaks  of  advancing  trouble  were  plainly 
visible  on  his  melancholy  countenance,  yet  he  hesitated  to  maka 
confession — although  virtually  telling  his  own,  by  inquiring  after  tha 
particular  symptoms  of  others.  He  drew  forth  a  cigar,  that  morning 
pmrdiaaed  at  the  '*  Tremont,"  looked  very  wistfully  at  it,  bemoaned 
4be  harsh  fete  that  forbade  its  enjoyment,  and,  shaUng  his  haadi 


teKb^red  it  ligain  to>hi8  podcet, -and  JUihed  dtnm  below,  in  five «r 
taottiiratesiiejretimiedy  lapguor  enstemped  «ai  hi8fi»t,«ad  bvgqr 
qpfrk dnx^ping  inUs  egrea.  ^ Oh {" be exdaivuid,  ^' wbafc a fixil I jb» I 
^  Hour  I  regrot  erer  ooming  on  boMrd  tbis  iafemal  boiit.  Burqpei 
^  wbat  is  it?  A  darned  old  ceunlry  at  best^  and  faidf  rodtea  at  tbatf! 
'*!  doaH  want  to  see  it  or  anj  of  its  triumphs  of  aatiire  or  art  Wbe^ 
^oaoe  I  for  any  of  them?  lle^  jiiatnow,  as  if  I  oould  kiok  St  Paul'a 
^  vith  contempt,  diaoharge  a  tobaeeo  quid  at  all  Paris,  and  fling  a 
^'fariokatthe  Pope!    Oh!  what  a  fool, iwbat  an  infenial  fool  was  !» to 

^  leave  good,  aouud  Amerioan  soil,  and— ^and ^."   But  hare  IntmsiaL 

oommoiioas  compelled  another  rapid  descent  below,  and  a  half  an 
honr  or  jnoKe  el^aed  before  he  waa  enabled  again  to  reach  the  deck. 
•But  evaniag  has  advanced  upon  ua,  and  auddoily  we  are  enrelopfld 
in  a  dense  doud.  Moiature,  heavy  as  rftin,  deecca[id8  upon  our  aUp, 
and  winter  overcoats  a^e  soon  dampened  through.  An  order  is  beaod 
fivm  the  forward  deek,  and  an  old  Jack  is  aeen  to  approach  ua,  rig  np 
■omediing  alongside  of  the  steam-pipe,  take  hold  of  a  rope,  and  fixhia 
eyes  forward.  Thinking  him  a  good  sul^ect  to  chat  with  about  our 
route  and  iste  of  speed,  we  approadied  the  iqpot  where  he  stood* 
flnddoily,  and  just  as  he  was  addresaed,  he  puUa  the  atring  in  lua 
hand,  and,  rliorrar  of  horrors !  what  afeaefid  acream  aalutea  ua !  k 
aoonded  like  tan  Hudaon  River  Bailroad  wlustlaB  ooneentratad  mb» 
one,  and  seemed  loud  enouf^  to  have  entered  the  ears  of  onr£actida 

in  Detroit.    ""  What  in  the  miachief  ia  that  V  criea  J r,  who,  bf 

(hia  .time,  had  regained  the  deck,  and  waa  crawling  toward  ua.  ^  Fqg 
lAiaile,"  aaya  old  Jack.  ""Is  thb  a  fog  in  whidi  we  aoe  involved P 
^  Fat,  attr,-^aw  h'aSwai»$ 'we  thamHU  we  gei  h'qf  ike  Banke:'  ""fia 
you  keep  this  horrid  tlidng  at  work  ail  the  time  it  laataT  ''IPeMAe 
IJhM,aiir/"  And  so  it  was,  for,  Ihroagh  the  silent  wstehes  of  tba 
night,  a-Mr-e«pm,  a-c-r-#a4n^  a^r-e-a-m,  it  aounded  upon  our  eaoos,  like 
the  mourning  spirit  of  the  lost  "  Arctic,"  hovering  over  these  foggy 
waters,  and  waming  ua  against  the  sad  fote  that  overwhelmed  her 
unhappy  <»ew-^8o  melancholy,  ao  beaeeching  did  its  strain  at  Jaat 


Bnt,  with  old  Jack  of  the  whistle,  we  oontinned  our  «hat — ^  Ana 
not  the  Qunarders  stronger  than  the  CoUina  ships  t  ^*  Oh  yat,  mur^'^ 
mo  Mkipe  amid  be  etronffer  than  h^cmtey  tkey  'eafe  eo  mmh  aroa  emd 
Aankmr  tn  amP  ',How  many  aie  now  in  the  lineT  ^  Only  Iftma 
aaicr  nmning^  hut  mven  «n  eJl — ihe  reei  mne  im  tie  CWmaa,  aiaMy 
money  JiuiyWurV^ 

'^  Jaidc,*"  aaya  I, ''  what  ia  good  to  cure  thaa  deuced  seaaiekaessl  It 
ia  taaring  the  very  bowda  out  gfine."    ^  Nothing  at  ^ead^  smt,*'  ufn 


GHAT  vmm  msD  x±m,'^wM^is&  time.  m 

-^ ■■--■■■   _-.  -  ■     -  ■        .-_    —  _  —  .  ■  —  _    -  I    _ ..     .  -  -  .     .  ■  ■  "  I     . 

Jack,  with  a  granting  kind  of  laugh,  ^  it  is  the  moUan  h^of  the  hoat^ 
Zfur,  Jist  howw  around  on  your  Ugs^  zur^  U  is  ICall  you  can  do  for 
iL^  ^"Do  jou  think  we  are  going  to  have  rough  weather,  Jack! — ^I 
fancy  I  see  the  olouda  through  this  fog."  *'  Oh  noy  zur^ — shan^t  ^ave 
any  rough  weathtr  this  wmUh.  *  ToaHl ^avea^good  fide  of  it,  and  by 
U^^norrow  night  we'll  land  you  in  Halifax^  "•  How  mudi  of  a  load 
and  crew  have  you,  fthiatrip  ?"  ^'  Aheut  two  huudred  and  ffty  pas- 
sengers  and  twenty-eight  of  a  crew^  zur,^'*  **  Have  you  boats  enough  to 
float  them  all,  in  case  of  accident  1"  ^  We  ^ave  eight,  zur^ — plenty  to 
carry  'em  AW/,  «wr." 

"^Keep  that  whistle  going,  there  P  shouts  Capt  Lott,  as  he  stepped 
back  from  the  wheel-house,  and  addressed  himself  to  Jack,  who,  wil9i 
an -air  of  apparent  neglect  of  duty,  grew  suddenly  silent.  "Terhaps 
it  annoys  you,  Jack,  to  have  us  talking  with  you  while  on  duty^ 
**  Tm  not  allowed,  etfr^*  "  Good  night,  old  Jack  !*'  we  cried— iflrii 
Mft  him,  standing  hi  the  drenching  fog,  with  nothing  but  his  duck 
breeches  and  a  linen  blouse  over  him, — ^the  alarmist  of  our  crew,  ahd 
ihe  -warning  herald  of  our  ponderous  approach. 

"Let's  to  bed,'*  says  W ,  another  of  our  passengers,  "  neithet 

dfyouTeel  very  bri^t — so  let's  descend  !"  "Agreed,"  cried  all, — 
anfl  downwe  went,  wending  our  way,  down  and  down,  to  the  bottom 
(ffHihe  w^U  appointed  fbr  our  lodgings.  On  reaching  the  main  deck, 
ir&  observed  tin  old  chap  with  a  big  copper  bucket  and  a  spout  to  It, 
mfanstering  grog  to  the  crew.  He  had  a  little  copper  cup  with  a  long 
htmdle  to  it,  holdingperhaps  a  gill,  which  he  dipped  to  the  fiill  auQ 
iMnred  to'tiie  sailors^  lip8,'-flsthey  presented  themselves  in  regular  sue- 
eiM^n  and  in  prdfound  silence.  How  pleasantly  tiiey  Bwigged  it  down, 
#iping'their  lips  wHh  their  tarry  shirt-sleeves,  itnd  grunting  out  Atelr 
Attis&ction  as  'the  liquid  seemed  to  hit  the  right  ^pot.  "  What  is  that 
Ifeqtiorf  wie  inquired  oflSie  Genius  who  presided  over  the  buckdt 
«  Rum,  xur."  "  How  often  do  you  givB  it  to  the  Tncnf  "  We  grog 
them  'twice  »  day,  zur."  "  How  much  each  time  7"  He  beld  up,  in 
reply,  fte  long-handled  cop  beibre  Inentioned,  While  the  sailor  wfat> 
cttttie  next  in  ^  order  of  topers,  followed  it  with  jealous  eyeb,  leKt, 

perchance,  we  might  rob  him  of  his  nightcap.  Here,  then,  was -one '(^ 
Sngkwd^soM  customs,  etill  rigidly  allered  to.  Dow  it  broagltt  bttck 
ttenoval-ieaduig  ot  our  boj^lnMod,'when'WB  -fended 'ouraelvaa,  thorcmgii 
Mamtt^'S^^uiU,  as  fiuniliar  wil^a  vessers  deck  and  oustDias,  as  wUh 
tlie  first  faffd  of  our  Greek  or  Latin  grammars.  While  we  reoaenh 
bered  the  evils  of  intemperance,  especially  among  sailors,  still,  as  we 
saw  this  liquor  taking  its  oily  course  dpwn  these  rough  llhroa^ts,  Ire 
eeiild  '&M  Welp  Irish^g  that  ^  rum  -was  leas  injurious;  so  Tery  ^ootnr 
ftrtfiigaidlt«eemitO'iDidJaek,oii4hlsour  ftrst^foggy  aiid«Ki>w  Mltojr 
night  upon  the  sea. 


^* 


|98  TRilTBLS  IN-  THB  SOUTH WJUR*. 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH-WEST. 


BT  oujdtr  HAnuwAT,  UQ.,  ov  LAfOKn,  tn». 


CHAPTER  V. 

Never  did  a  worthy  sentinel  at  his  post  sound  the  notes  of  alana 
more  valiantly  thanr  I  did.  No  reply  came  from  the  intruder. 
Silence  reigned  supreme — save  the  low  moan  of  the  wind  'mid  the 
limbs  of  the  trees,  and  the  rustling  of  withered  leaves.  I  listened  a 
few  seconds  in  silence,  when  a  low  and  apparently  suppressed  breadu 
ing  reached  my  ear.  This  confirmed  my  suspicions.  I  raised  myself 
up  still  higher  from  my  resting-place.  Throwing  out  my  handi  it 
came  in  contact  with  the  coarse  hair  of  his  head,  as  he  lay  crouched 
by  my  side.  A  feeling  of  horror  and  alarm  seized  me.  "  Great  Crod 
of  mercy !"  I  cried,  fearing  his  purpose  might  be  murder  as  well  as 
robbery.  I  sprang  to  my  feet.  Seizing  the  first  thing  my  hand  cpme 
in  contact  with,  I  stretched  myself  to  full  height,  standing  braoed 
ready  for  the  onset.  I  demanded  why  he  was  there  and  what  he 
wanted.  By  the  &int  light  which  found  its  way  through  the  orevioes 
of  the  logs,  I  perceived  the  dark,  black  object  of  my  dread  rise  up 
before  me,  extending  his  brawny  arms,  which,  to  me,  seemed  huge. 
Methought  he  was  about  to  crush  me  in  his  terrible  grasp  !  Jn  an 
i^ony  of  excitement,  I  exclaimed,  "  Begone !"  Suiting  the  action  to 
the  word,  I  sent  the  missile  I  held  in  my  hand,  with  all  the  force  I 
oould  command.  As  good  fortune  would  have  it,  this  took  effect  on 
his  &ce,  accomplishing  the  desired  object, — ^for  he  immediately  settled 
down  to  the  floor,  and  quietly  retreated  under  the  house,  through  a 
Urge  hole  in  the  hearth.  As  he  passed  out,  I  heard  the  rattllpg  of  his 
chain,  and  then  discovered  that  it  was  the  pet  bear  that  had  caused  my 
alarm ! 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  I  had  put  in  the  pocket  of  my  overooat  a 
handful  of  acorns,  which,  it  would  appear,  he  was  in  pursuit  of.  The 
missile  I  had  hit  him  with,  was  a  bottle  of  snuff,  which  the  wife  of 
the  Doctor  had  left  standing  on  a  bag  of  corn-meal,  from  which  she 
had  taken  the  supplies  for  our  supper  cake. 

Bruin  retreated  to  his  nest  beneath  the  flooi:,  and  I  to  mine  aboirai. 
<«-glad  that  the  battle  had  terminated  so  fevorably.    But  both  o£«a 


ElffBCKTS  OF  OHAKQIKa  AB0DB8.  8l» 


k«pt  up  ft  terrible  neeshig  Ibr  aome  time,  as  the  contentB  of  Ab  bro- 
keD  bottle  were  fioRting,  in  fine  partides,  through  the  apartment 

With  two  flttoh  adventurea,  sleep  was  driven  entirely  from  my 
eyelids;  and  when  the  morning  light  appeared,  I  deliberately  took  a 
aurvey  of  the  battlo-field,  with  as  much  oomplaeepoy,  I  doubt  not,  as 
a  commanding  general  would  of  an  ensanguined  field,  which  would 
brii^  him  promotion  in  rank  or  a  marshal's  baton. 

I  left  the  Doctor's  the  next  morning.  My  narrative  will  be  oon« 
tinned  in  my  next.  I  must  now  bring  this  to  a  close,  for  you  must 
know,  I  write  in  a  cabin  where  such  a  thing  as  a  candle  is  not  known. 
The  on]y  means  of  light  I  have,  is  from  two  pine-knots,  held  by  two 
dirty  n^gro  boys,  one  on  each  side  of  me, — sitting  near  the  mud 
fireplace,  so  that  the  smoke  from  the  torches  may  be  drawn  up  the 
chimney, — with  my  portfolio  on  my  knee.  The  knots  having  been 
consumed,  the  boys  are  tired  and  sleepy,  having,  as  they  suppose, 
earned  their  dime  each.  1  must  leave  you,  till  I  have  opportunity  of 
sending  you  another  epistle. 

Shsiiman,  Texas. 
Friend  K. — Since  writing  yon  from  I^wring's  Ranch,  I  have  had 
several  days'  travel,  a  portion  of  which  was  through  a  very  beautifnl 
oountry, — ^and  now,  seated  at  a  table,  in  a  very  different  place  from 
what  I  then  was,  with  quite  another  sort  of  light  before  me  (held  in  a 
metal  stick,  bright  and  clean, — and  not  as  then,  in  the  dirty  hand  of  a 
living  holder)  I  will  endeavor  to  give  you  another  chapter  of  the  inci- 
dents of  my  journey. 

I  am  spending  this  day  at  the  house  of  Mr.  R ,  who,  like  many 

persons  you  meet  in  new  countries,  has  passed  through  the  settlement 
of  several  new  States.  A  Virginian  by  birth,  he  spent  the  early  part 
of  his  life  in  Kentucky — ^his  father  having  emigrated  to  that  country 
at  an  early  day.  Two  years  of  his  life  were  passed  at  Pittsburgh- 
after  which  he  emigrated  to  Illinois,  where  he  resided  several  years, 
during  the  settlement  of  that  part  of  the  state  in  which  he  was  located. 
From  Illinois  he  went  to  Missouri,  and  was,  for  some  years,  on  the 
confines  of  civilization  in  this  new  country — ^from  which  place  he 
came  here.  Five  years'  experience  has  made  him  quite  a  Texan.  At 
first,  he  cultivated  a  farm  ;  but  the  female  portion  of  his  household 
finding  it  too  lonesome  to  reside  in  the  country,  with  nei^bors  no 
nearer  than  fitmi  five  to  ten  miles,  he  sold  his  fiirm,  and  has  come  to 
town ;  and  is  now  keeping  public  hottsei,  with  the  hope  that  his  fiinifly 
oiay  see  company.  Ekt,  finding  his  new  buuneas  not  very  profitablei 
isme  of  his  fiimily  are  endeavoring  to  have  him  return  to  the  ooimtrj 


m  imAXKU  ZF  WEB  fiOOTSHMRf. 

^tlni»y  willing  to  fango  the oomjpaiij  for  ifae  rnkpetcyfuiiiw  'ibom 
doIlaiB. 

.Umib  it  i»-Hdie  poor  iell<nr  lias  been  diaagiiig  hiffiplaoe  Mff  r«ildelioe 
amavyfew  yeara ;  and,  now  ibat  die  firost  "of  Bge  'hm  JsHi^iewidoW  Ue 
leattered  ledcs,  lie  is  about  to  settle  4igaai  on  a<iew:place,  wbi^re  te 
ftOl  beOeirriTed  of  all  Inuxrlcs  and  ttiost  ofliie  comforte  of  Hflft,  sanh 
as  bis  age  and  tastes  require— «nd  wbich,  doobtkss,  be  woulA  bate 
possessed,  had  he  remained  in  any  one  plaee  long  eiiou^  to  'have 
them  gather  Around  him. 

He  19  a  man  of  muoh  reading  and  general  informatioti.  Ibe  bouse 
IS  .neat,  and  scrupulously  clean — a  very  novel  feature  in  this  portiisn 
of  the  country.  Take  it  all  in  all,  it  is  a  very  comfortable  piaoe  :tt> 
stpp  a  few  days. 

Next  ni|^t  we  sp^it  at  the  cabin  of  a  cotton  plantei>-4iavi2ig  dsmb 
more  than  thirty  miles,  through  a  coantfy  equally  barren  wilb  thsit 
ibove  Washington.  No  settlements,  scarcely,  were  there,  to  rdiense 
the  dull  monotony  of  our  weary  ride.  Here  and  there,  a  misemUe 
cabin  was  visible  amid  the  tail,  halfdecayed  pine  trees,  with  blackened 
stunvps  and  half-consumed  logs  scattered  around ;  but  no  real  signs  of 
thrift  or  comfort.  The  soil  was  light  and  sandy,  and  whenever  an 
Sittei»pt  had  been  made  to  cultivate  it,  tbeeotton  stalks  were  thin  sbiB 
fb^le.  What  few  people  we  met,  were  lean  and  lank — ^passing  Wifli 
a  Sh  iffling  gait,  as  if  their  strength  of  limb  was  altogether  bzadeqmMs 
to  Ae  task  of  moving  their  Ibet 

The  night  was  eold  and  frosty,  modi  the  coldest  Ilufd  experienodB. 
!nie  house  was  small  and  open,  and,  notwithstanfii^  « laige  fire  Wtti 
boning  on  the  stone  heartfa,  ^stJU,  it  was  so  modi  like  k>e4sig<ott  of 
tows  fad  thevpaitmeot,  that  tt  was  eold  and  cheerless. 

When  I  oame  up  to  the  house,  the  sun  had  kn^  idnee  gene  to 
Us  irtstaog'-plaee,  toid  the  ^sfaadss  of  night  -fiurly  set  in.  Charlsa 
iiiwaiiinil  mt  the  wagon,  wfaHe  I  went  to  inquirB  if  I  could  '^tstop  (SH 
aigfat'widi  them."  Beoeiving  a  ihvorable'aiivwer,  I  approadMid  'the 
ftpBy'iriieRislood  enjoyniig  its  genial  nniys,  when  I  WHS  aslMfd  ito  witt 
Mt  (to  s«iq^  ai^  a  lervaut  dispatched  to  the  w«go«i,  to  Inform  Ifae 
gsnthman  that  supper  -was  ready.  Soon  Ihe^boy  fttumed,  wMiHis 
itftelligenoe  that ^ thegemmen w«s as  blask  n  4ie  was,*and  no  mms 
of  a  genunsQ ;''  at  which  anDoimeenMnt,  ihe  master  ^inquivsd  if  3  IhA 
a  servvdt  with  me.  Seftng  iidhnsied  on  this  point,  we  were  led  ^td  >% 
osM  snd  eheerlesB  Toom,  through  wiuch  the  fiant  ^noKlher**  i»as 
fMstf^giita. shrill  «Dd  faiiMPrnfcmious  notea 

I   I^iiSMiwrly  aTOu»ri,1iM  next  Morahig,  by  the  sound  «f  the  »slre^ 
^.XjfAetask^nastBr'skMh.    Hastsningout,  faithe4iseetimA<om  wUck 


VsEPraia  A 'HLiiTs.  ma 


ikib'^omd,  «ame,  I  perceived  the  ^^o^v^raeer*' of  the  plaoe,  eomidlf 
belaboring  the  back  of  a  poor  fellow,  in  tattered  rags,  ^nrth  a  blaitt 
leather  whip,  mieh  as  the  teametere  use  in  ttie  nuMintalns  ef  Pemieyl- 
^WUB.  Theeaaee  of  this  drubbing  seemed  to  be,  that  it  ^vras  'then 
daylight,  mod  the  boj  was  not  ^et  at  the  eotton^^  house.  TIm 
•fwitNm  of  the  overseer  did  great  oredit  to  his  disoenraienty  ibr  ^It 
^Rras  quite  out  of  the  question  for  me  to  perceive  any  of  the  normal 
4iiiications  of  approaching  day.  It  was  yet  so  dark,  that  it  was  wMi 
-Afiicuhy  I  groped  my  way  from  the  house  to  where  the  parties  were 
«lfla^Hiig.  The  season  when  the  seed  is  separated  from  t^  ootten, 
ind  ^orrved ;  and  it  was  quite  evident,  tiuit  at  this  time — to  'say 
nothing  about  tiie  balance  of  the  y.ear--«the  ten  hour  9ywUm  did  not 
prevail. 

'^  h  is  daylight,  and  you  are  not  at  the  gin-house !"  repeated  IJbe 
task-master, — and  then  would  he  apply  the  heavy  whip,  with  a  puis 
<pcae  that  really  made  me  shudder.  The  poor  black  stood  in  a 
humble  attitude,  receiving  the  blows  without  uttering  a  word  or  « 
f^raan;  with  tean  etreaming  irom  his  eyes,  the  very  pietore  of 
^ieapair  \ — a  victim  q/[  brutal  cruelty.  When  the  whipping  ceasefi, 
Ihe  poor  fellow,  with  slow  step  and  sluggish  tread,  approached  4lk 
snile,  which  was  standing  near  by, — mounted,  and  slowly  wended  4^ 
3nqr,  'thvovi^  the  ^half-decayed  standing  timber,  towards  tiie  gin^housa, 
and  «ras  quickly  lost  to  sight,  amid  the  sombre  shades  of  eao^Iy  daf. 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  witnessed  a  soene  of  this  kind.  The 'top 
dagnadalion  and  eomplete  humiliation  of  a  being  in  human  "fenn,  4um 
floade  an  4ndellible  impression  on  my  heart,  which  I  am  oonfidenty'wn 
msfBT  ihe  eftaed,  and  whieh  I  find  myself  uttsrly  unable  to  desadb^ 

My  suapioions  being  thus  avoosed  as  to  the  treataoLent  jdaves  an  tUa 
liiaaewaDereQei^ing,  Itook  oooanon  to  eiamine  the  ^'qnaiiers'' 
tbnA  the  follosnng  slate  of  i&cta :  A  •siI^{le  log  haiilding  only 
tially  roofed,  and  without  *'  chinking"  or  plastering,  aiorded  all  the 
froteolion  the  poor  inmates  had  in>m  the  finat  king,  whieh  ma  a 
aa^hdy  visiftani.  nere  was  no  chimney— «a  pen  of  small  I091  was 
iuikartithB  end  ofdieoaUn,  where  tba  ohinaiiey  ougbt  to  hapaa  hMB, 
vduah  aarved  the  porpoae  oi  a  <firo^pboe.  There  was  qo  ibeMad^ 
saikher  wm  there  any  ^»ed  dothng,  saive  «  few  saga,  wlnoh^eivaadittia 
porpoae. 

Hero,  JB  thw  ogiidiliaa,a]i  the  field  hands  of  the  plantation  wansAA 
<m  their  ooarse  fiar^  and  'here  they  spent  the  dtUly  Qigfata— ^ig  aat 
Htdo  -eid  and  yor^oig— of  both  sexes,  in  oneiWhgr  iodSpsfMsi^,  ortqaiii' 
•Bg>8tew;  and  wlenitkadded,  that  4iiey  are  not  half  dad,  and  as  im 
have  aeen,  required  to  perform  beavy  taaka,   we  ame  led  to  oanalade 


Mi  TRAYSLB  IN  THB  flOUTUWKtfT. 

tbare  is  (me  place  at  least,  where  to  be  a  aUve,  is  not  the  most  pli 
ant  thing  that  oan  be  imagined. 

But  in  justke  to  the  pec^le,  here  it  ends.  When  at  Jefferson  ia  the 
aame  oountj,  I  was  informed  hj  a  reputable  gentleman  that  this  mual 
have  been  a  very  rare  case,  for  most  of  the  planters  in  the  oounty  takd 
excellent  care  of  their  slaves,  and  as  a  reason  for  the  treatmctit,  that 
these  poor  negroes  suffered,  I  learned  that  this  plantation  had  been  re- 
cently pifrchased  by  the  present  proprietor,  and  the  slaves  hired.  Hist 
he  had  recently  been  a  merchant  in  the  neighborhood,  at  which  bu^ 
ness  he  had  &iled,  by  which  his  creditors  lost  much  money,  and  thoa 
he  had  taken  the  title  to  the  property  in  the  name  of  his  wife — (a  pro- 
ceeding allowable  in  this  country)  by  which  means  and  some  olher 
**  hocus  pocus*^  acts,  he  expects  to  keep  from  paying  his  just  debtiL 
lliat  he  has  but  little  knowledge  of  slaves,  having  been  in  the  coontry 
but  few  years,  being  originally  firom  the  free  states.* 

I  left  his  roof  with  great  disgust^  notwithstanding  his  evident  effort 
atpolitMiess. 

It  was  in  the  quarters  I  have  described,  that  Qiarles  was  obliged  to 
spend  the  night,  sharing  their  fiure  in  all  particulars,  and  to  one  who 
breathed  the  air  of  freedom — ^was  the  owner  of  a  large  tract  of  land  and 
several  horses,  it  was  an  adventure  he  did  not  care  to  repeat  He  in- 
formed me  that  he  passed  the  night  in  collecting  what  fuel  he  oould, 
^nd  sitting  in  moody  silence  by  its  glowing  blaze.  He  had  scaroelj 
sl^t  a  wink  during  the  night. 

At  Jefferson,  for  it  was  at  this  place  we  arrived  the  next  day,  many 
friends  came  to  greet  me.  I  had  been  here  before,  and  formed  some 
very  agreeable  acquaintances.  It  was  here  I  had  the  adventure  witk 
the  Texan,  whom  I  brought  in  afier  his  efforts  to  evade  me,  the  particu- 
lars of  whidi  I  related  to  you  on  my  return — and  who  was  aflerwardi 
ahot  by  a  Mexican  in  the  act  of  stealing  his  horses  near  Brownsville 
on  the  Rio  Grande. 

This  is  a  place  of  c(Hisiderable  trade,  being  situate  at  the  head  of 
navigation  in  tiiis  neighborhood.  Caddo  Lake  is  connected  by  outlets 
with  Red  River  some  distance  above  Shrevesport ;  and  fh>m  the  lake  to 
Jefferson  there  is  a  smalT  stream  or  bayou  connexion,  which,  during 
high  stages  of  water,  affords  navigation  for  small  class  steam  boati; 
When  the  town  was  first  located,  and,  for  three  or  four  years  thereafter, 
navigation  was  good — ^water  was  abundant,  and  the  arrival  and  depart- 
ure of  steam  boats  almost  a  daily  occurrence.  Business  was  prosper- 
ous, merchants  came  irom  all  quarters ;  mills  were  set  in  motion— 
Imnber  became  cheap-nitores  were  rented  and  dwelling  houses  came 

—   ■  ■■  I        I         !■■■       .■■■-  _  ■  LI  -  ' ■ ■  -  -^^^^^-^— ^—^^— ^ 

*T«I,  all  ver*  U^M*  to  the  Mune  cnul  trefttmentw^BD. 


RISE  AND  FALL  OF  A  TOWN.  33S 

up  as  if  by  magic  Plantations  were  opened  in  the  productive  regions 
west  of  it-— cotton  and  corn  flowed  in  in  great  quantities,  and  were  ex* 
changed  for  the  varipus  supplies  needed  on  the  plantations.  Emigra- 
tion from  Georgia  and  Mississippi  flooded  the  country  with  its  ridh 
streams  of  wealth.  Prosperity  was  the  order  of  the  day.  Wharves 
were  erected  along  the  bayou,  and  large  warehouses  were  constructed 
for  storing  the  rich  products  which  here  sought  a  market.  It  is  more 
than  one  hundred  miles  nearer  the  growing  districts  of  Texas,  than 
Shrevesport,  to  which  place  the  older  settlers  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
taking  their  cotton,  and  for  a  time  Jefferson  seemed  to  threaten  destruc- 
tion to  the  trade  of  that  once  flourishing  town. 

But  a  succession  of  dry  seasons  has  brought  a  change  over  the  spirit 
of  the  dreams  of  the  Jeffersohians.  The  bayou  is  nearly  dry — a 
greater  portion  of  Caddo  Lake  is  not  navigable,  in  consequence  of  the 
obstruction  by  innumerable  "  cyprus  knees"  with  which  that  water  is 
filled,  brought  to  the  surface  by  the  receding  of  the  waters,  and  which 
are  so  destructive  to  the  bottoms  of  a  steamboat  when  brought  in  con- 
tact. Business  has  declined — the  streets  once  teeming  with  active 
trade,  are  dull,  and  the  stores,  so  recently  filled  with  goods  from  al- 
most every  clime,  are  now  mostly  tenantless.  The  products  of  the 
country  no  longer  come  here  for  market,  but  are  hauled  by  slow  ox 
teams  to  Xhe  more  fortunate  points  on  the  river,  many  weary  miles 
iBrom  where  they  are  grown. 

Some  have  failed — ^many  gone  away,  while  others^  with  commenda* 
ble  courage  and  energy  are  laboring  on,  with  the  hope  that  the  river 
will  descend — the  floods  come  and  open  navigation  to  their  town. 
With  trade,  depending  upon  the  passing  shower — ^the  prosperity  of 
the  place  must  be  precarious.  Could  there  be  any  certainty  of  navi- 
gation, say  nine  months  in  twelve,  its  position  is  such  in  relation  to  the 
ootton  portion  of  this  region — that  a  fine  city  would  soon  be  built  up, 
notwithstanding  the  unhealthiness  of  its  location.  And  I  may  remaric, 
that  it  is  the  only  place  I  have  found,  where  the  inhabitants  will  admit 
it  to  be  more  unhealthy  than  neighboring  towns. 

I  spent  some  four  days  in  Jefferson,  in  which  time  I  fitted  out,  for 
my  long  winter  ramble,  and  it  may  be  said  that  here  my  journey 
really  begins. 

Hie  weather  for  some  time  had  been  very  fine.  The  roads  as  &r 
•a  could  be  heard  from,  were  in  excellent  condition ;  I  therefore  de- 
termined not  to  travel  on  horseback,  as  was  my  purpose  at  first;  but 
procured  two  horses  and  a  small  wagon.  By  this  means  I  hoped  to  tn^ 
wel  not  only  more  easily,  than  by  any  other  method,  bat  more  qseedily. 
I  could  take  with  me  all  necessafy  clothing,  a  book  or  two,  as  well  as 


SM  aiGGINa  UP  AN  OnTFTF. 

my^  writiiig  materials.    It  19  owing  to  tins  ftcfe  that  I  am  able  to  send 
jxni  tiieae  jotdngB^own  of  my  journey. 

After  the  usual  talk  where  a  horse  trade  is  on  ttie  tapis^  I  proaundm 
pair  of  common  horses^  the  best  the  market  afforded,  and  a  new  boggy, 
▼ery  light,  and  to  the  eye  of  most  persons,  quite  fragile.  It  wBsintend*- 
ed  for  the  shell  road  out  of  New  Orleans,  and  therefore  very  unsaita* 
ble^for  the  rough  muddy"  roads,  siieh  as  I  would  be  likdy>  to  meet  with, 
on  my  journey,  as  part  of  my  way  would  lie  orer  a  very  remote  and 
new  region — ^wh^-e  wheds  of  any  kind  had  scarcely  been  seen*  I  ochs* 
fosB^I  had  some  misgivings,  but  on  examination  I  found  the  vehicle  WMf 
well  made,  and  apparently  of  good  material.  The  hsmess'  and  winp 
had  seen  much  service  in  a  livery  stable,  but  they  beii^tiie  only 
Aings  of  the  kind  procurable,  I  was  forced  to  take  them,  4ven  at  the 
high  price  named  by  the  Yankee  from  the  white  moontun  state  fiooB 
whom  I  boi^ht  t^em. 

When  I  had  got  my  outfit  '^  rigged  up,"  and  had  taken  a.tura  or  t«M» 
aftout  town,  to  see  tiiat  all  was  right,  many  were  tixe  conjeotmreranl 
pvognostioffasto  how  I  would  get.  through  the  country.  Somei  said  I 
eofuld  get  on  much  better  in  this!W«y,  than  any  other,  while  otiiers  pea* 
^oted  that  I  would  not  keep  my  establishment  together  a  hwidrei 
miles ;  others  again,  were  quite  sure  I  would  break  down  before  LhaA 
feadied  the  limits  of  the  couflty,  that  the  next  thmg  they  would  haarcf 
me,  would  be  that  I  had  sold  the  buggy  for  what  1  could  get,  giving 
wjbat  t^re  might  be  left  of  the  harness,  for  a  pair  of  saddle-bags  and 
one  of  the  horses  for  a  saddle  and  bridle,  and  being  thus  equiped,  tfaer^ 
woro  kind  enough  to  say,  I  would  get  on  pretty  well. 

It  was  really  amusing  to  listen  to  comments  of  the  above  diaraolei^ 
and  hanne  diem  point  out  what  part  of  the  carriage  and  harness!,  hi  their 
epniett  would  first  give  way.  I  listened  to  their  comments  and  gibes 
witlraB-mufih  complacency  as  possible,  and  quietly  made  my  pnqpav- 
ationsi 

I  took  the  precaution  to  supply  myself  a  small  cord,  an  extra  atiAaff 
or  two,  a  few  nails  and  tadis,  and  a  small  hatchet,  to  whicli  I  added  • 
WMter  booket  and  a  box  oontaonittg  crackers  and  cheese  and  pnoawved 
meailai  aodr  fruits  of  various  kinds,  denominated  the  commiasaiy  dheatc^ 
Thus  equipped,  1  set  out  on  my  long  journey. 

Hmkkg  told  yoawhat  my  equipments  consisted  of,  it  ma^oni  be 
amisa-to  state  what  formed  no  part  of  them,  and  at  which  youmqpbp 
aMaewhat  snrpriaed.  I  had  no  gun  or  ride  of  any  kntdjUobowia^knito 
orotfaer  deadly  weapon  of  defease  or  pixitectiOB^  lUs^  yaaJanpiiusuJI 
t(a tofool4ianiia0fls,  on  tfaepavtof  some;  when  itmnst beknorimitQr 
otfieta that  at aorae  periodsof  my^ jovraey  I  wevld  havieini 


K  IiAOIDLOED'S  TBICK.  US 

gioii,  oooaiderabl^  sums  of  xnooey^  But  experience,  had:  taugbt  me^ 
tliat  any  thing  of  the  kind  was  quite  uimeeeaeary — and  furtfaenaore  I 
was  unyielding  in  my  determination. 

The  dock  had  told  the  hour  of  eleven,  when  all  things  being  in  read< 
ioessy  I  took  leave  of  my  friends^  and  the  loungers,  about  the  hotels 
who  gathered  around  to  see  me  off.  At  night  fall,  I  reached  the  smaU 
town  of  Dangerfield,. thirty  miles  distant^  in  good  condition,  not  hav^ 
ing  met  with  any  of  the  difficulties,  so  confidently  predicted  by^  the 
knowing  ones.  At  this  place  there  is  to  be  met  with,  what  the  travekt 
eo  much  desires,  and  which,  in  this  state,  he  so  seldom  finds,  a  oom^ 
fortable  hotel.  A  small  unpretending  house,  built  partly  of  logs,  after 
the  ordinary  plan,  with  porch,  or  as  it  is  called  here,  a^^ery  running 
across  the  entire  front,  affords  good  cheer  to  the  weary  pilgrim  through 
the  land ;  fbr  in  truth  it  i^  a  sort  of  pilgrimage  one  makes^  who  goea 
over  this  state,  for  without  a  religious- duty  being  the  moving  oanse^ 
one  could  hardly  bie  expected  to  make  the  tour.  And  what  isstiU 
more  rare,  one  finds  here,  a  good,  faithftil  and.  honest  ostler.  To  have 
one's  horses  well  fed  and  groomed,  is  the  first  care  of  the  real 
traveler ;  and  as  a  general  thing  in  alaige  per  centage  of  cases,  unleie 
his  personal  attention  is  given-  to  it,  this  will  be  neglected.  In  my  peih 
egrinations  in  this  state,  I  have  met  with  some  curious  tricks  that  laiidi 
lords  play  upon  travelers,  one  I  will  namei  At  one  place  com  was 
•carce,  consequently  was  high  in  price;  the  keeper  of  the  stable  at  wfaiek 
I  had  my  horses  cared  for,  concluded  the  less  one  traveler's  horses  eaft 
the  more  he  would  have  to  give  others,  and  in  the  fertility  of  his  ge* 
nius  he  hit  upon  the  plan  of  besmearing  it  with  grease,  having  leanied 
that  when  served  in  this  way,  no  horse,  however  hungry,  would  eafcity 
nchaking  a  peek  of  com  serve  to  feed  a  dozen*  horses,  the  ownw  suppDA^ 
ing  his  horse  sick,  the  reason  why  he  did  not  eat  The  trick  caanoftlMft 
detected  without  dose  inspection.  I  therefore  ever  made  it  an  invaii'' 
Bible  rule,  to  inspect  the  com  before  it  was  put  into  the  mangor.  Haiv* 
ing  been  once  deceived,  I  was  determined  that  the  imposition  was  no! 
to  be  practiced  a  second  time,  particularly  when  it  would  be  a^  thb 
diseomfortof  my  herses, 

Ifr.  Harris,  the  proprietor  of  this  house,  was  for  a  tintearesidealifif 
Keokuky  to  which  place  the  landlady  was  constantly  lookiBg«  with 
tears  of  regret  She  did  not  like  Texas — ^never  did,  and.  he  did  noA 
believe  she  ever  would;  and  in  this  l|bBt  position,  I  fally.  agveewMft 
her ;  for  the  mere  idea  of  not  wishing  to  live  here,  will  ever  cauaer  Imu 
to  dislike  remaining.  Not  in  &at,  but  what  ebe*  haa  her  healA'  ■ah 
but  what  prosperity  has,  in  a  reasonable  manner  crowned  their  effiitti^ 
not  but  what  they  had  all  the  privileges  of  educating  their  children — for 


d3$  TRAVELS  IN  TEDS  SOIFTHWEST. 

in  that  regard,  they  were  more  fortunate  than  they  oould  have  been  in 
Iowa ;  but,  as  1  learned  after  some  oonversiation,  she  did  not .  wish  to 
live  in  a  lo^  house!  and  the  vthole  secret  was  out  in  a  few  moments 
after,  when  I  found  there  were  two  daughters  from  sixteen  to  eighteen 
years  of  age.  But  she  was  homesick — a  malady  whidi  1  believe,  de- 
fies the  skill  of  the  most  learned  of  the  healing  art  It  is  a  little  doubt- 
ful !  whether  Homcepathy  would  prove  beneficial. 

There  are  established  here,  and  in  successful  operation,  a  college  for 
boys — ^and  a  seminary  for  girls ;  both  of  which  are  well  patronized. 
Pupils  come  from  a  long  distance,  and,  it  is  said,  receive  as  good  an 
education  as  in  any  schools  of  the  kind. 

My  next  day's  drive  brought  me  to  the  bottom  lands  of  "  White 
Oak,"  a  stream  of  considerable  dimensions  watering  a  fertile  region  of 
oountry.  For  seven  miles  there  had  been  no  house,  and  when  my  eye 
rested  on  the  cabin,  it  was  a  cheering  si^bt.  I  drove  to  the  door,  and 
to  my  inquiry  to  a  man  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  if  he  bad  '*  com  and  fod- 
der," I  received  an  affirmative  reply. 

Most  of  the  family  had  gone  a  visiting ;  soon  however  the  oxen  were 
visible  through  the  trees,  and  then  the  wagon  to  which  they  were 
attached  ;  in  a  few  moments  the  *'*'  team"  was  at  the  door,  and  the  load 
diteharged,  consisting  of  divers  persons  both  old  and  young. 

I  was  sitting  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  cabin,  and  as  they  came  in^^ 
one  after  the  other,  they  each  saluted  me  with  a  nod  of  the  head,  and  a 
guttural  "howdy."  'At  first,  I  was  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  make  out 
the  &mily  ;  for  having  nothing  else  to  employ  my  mind,  I  began  to 
speculate  on  the  probabilities  of  so  many  children,  belonging  to  the 
aune  parents.  I  glanced  at  the  man  of  the  house,  who  sat  without 
ooat,  vest  or  cravat,  with  heels  resting  on  the  gallery  railing,  nearly 
as  high  as  his  head,  and  then  at  his  grouse,  a  woman  of  great  rotundity 
of  zone,  and  spacious  dimensions,  who  at  the  time  was  very  busy  pre. 
paring  supper.  From  their  appearance,  both  being  young,  I  conclu- 
ded that  the  oldest  of  two  young  women,  who  busied  themselves  with 
household  matters,  could  not  be  a  daughter  of  the  landlady.  And 
then  there  Vere  so  many  children,  come  to  count  them,  that  it  looked 
really  presumptuous  to  suppose  them  all  brothers  and  sisters.  Yet 
from  other  appearances,  it  seemed  as  though  they  were  of  the  same 
parents.  Some  time  was  spent  in  vain  speculations  of  this  sort,  when 
supper  was  said  to  be  ready.  As  requested,  some  of  us  "  took  seats  at 
tfae  table,"  while  many  remained  without  seats,  standing  in  platoons 
around  us,  watching  with  intense  anxiety  the  movements  of  the  more 
fbrknnata. 


^^m  uf  CrakL 


VOL.  L]  AUGUST,  1857.  [NO.  8. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


BT  BBT.  Wn,  BVffOU).  D.  ]>. 


The  road  to  it  runs  along  the  Riviera  di  ponente,  or  sea  shore^  over 
-which  we  had  passed  on  our  way  to  Nice.  I  saw  in  Sestri  and  another 
village,  the  skins  of  hogs,  in  great  numbers,  all  apparently  stuffed  and 
filled,  paraded  in  different  places. '  As  they  stood  up  in  a  leaning  posi- 
tion against  a  wall,  they  presented  a  very  singular  appearance.  They 
were  the  entire  skins  without  the  head,  and  with  part  of  the  legs, 
commonly  used  in  this  part  of  the  country,  as  the  casks,  or  vessels, 
**  the  bottles''  into  which  the  new  wine,  fresh  from  the  press  is  put  for 
preservation.  They  reminded  me  of  the  ^'bottles"  of  antiquity 
of  which  the  Savior  .speaks,  except  that  the  skin  of  the  hog  is 
itobstituted  for  that  of  the  poat ;  perchance  some  may  have  been  of  the 
latter  animal.  These  skins  are  also  used  for  carrying  water  on  the 
backs  of  donkeys  and  men.  • 

The  villa  is  a  beautiful  achievement  of  taste  and  wealth,  an  effort  in 
&ct  to  improve  nature.  The  entrace  from  the  road  or  street  passing 
through  the  village,  is  through  large  iron  gates,  which  were  thrown  open 
for  our  carriage,  by  persons  in  attendance  in  lodges  or  houses  adjoin- 
ing. On  the  delivery  of  the  note,  granted  in  my  name,  and  for  my 
company,  we  were  directed  to  drive  forward.  The  way  on  which  we 
entered  leading  from  the  village,  gradually  ascended  along  a  wide 
gravel  walk  enclosed  by  a  stone  wall.  The  walls  were  partly  conceal- 
ed with  hedges  and  vines,  of  various  sorts  in  fUll  bloom.  In  front  of 
Hiese  hedges  were  rows  and  clusters,  of  different  sorts  of  omamentfld 
shrubs  and  trees.  It  was  not  far  we  had  to  ascend,  tiii  we  were  on 
'Ae  esplanade  before  the  palace,  which  stands  np<in  a  teivace  overlook- 
ing an  extensive  garden,  sloping  down  the  side  of  the  hill  or  mountain 
4>n  which  the  villa  is  situated.    The  garden  is  arranged  in  beds  of 

AAooBtdimensionSjappropriatedforfraHsandvegetable^  Avhieyatd, 
YOL,  I  KO.  vm— 25J1 


138  NOTES  OF  FOBEiaN  TRATBL. 

lemon,  orange,  and  pomegranate  groves  of  every  variety,  both  om*- 
mental  and  useful,  for  which  the  climate  is  adapted,  beautify  and  enrich 
the  scene.  We^did  not  enter  it,  but  from  the  teri'ace  on  the  north 
nde,  had  a  full  and  commanding  view  of  it,  as  it  hai^  to  the  south. 
On  entering  the  hill  of  the  palace^  %  ^wsntwtt  in  attendance  to 
oonduct  us  through  the  grounds.  The  family  being  tiJt  home,  no  ad- 
mission was  had  into  the  dwelling  apartments.  But  we  passed  up  a 
mavble  stairway,  to  an  higher  and  more  splendid  terrace,  which  to werac^ 
on  the  eastern  side  of  the  palaee,  at  an  elevation  of  two  stories  above 
thftt  of  the  esplanade  forming  the  open  space  before  the  western  purl, 
like  all  the  splendid  buildings  of  that  description,  in  and  about  Genoa, 
the  two  or  three  lower  stories  are  appropriated  to  the  use  of  the  ser- 
vants, and  for  cellars,  store  rooms,. and  sometimes,  but  not  in  this 
ease  as  &r  as  I  could  see,  for  stables.  The  upper  terrace  on  the  east- 
em  side,  approached  by  a  flight  of  marble  stairo,  is  all  floored,  ahd 
•rttamemted  with  a  balustrade  of  the  same  material  finely  sculptured. 
Hie  floor  is  tesselated,  composed^of  alternate  flags  of  blm^  lead  oeL 
ored  and  white  marble.  The  banisters  are  of  wMte  marbk,  <^  ias 
perfectly  as  if  they  had  been  turned  upon  the  lathe. 

From  this  terrace,  commanding  «  still  fmear  prospect  of  thegacrdte 
than  the  first,  you  pass  along  in  one  direction,  toward  the  green  hooBBp 
and  in  an  other,  to  the  walks  leading  up  and  around  the  mountain, 
ever  winding  and  branching  as  you  ascend,  until  you  reach  the  ma- 
mi  t,  towering  several  hundred  feet  above  the  stately  palace  on  its  sida. 
We  passed  along  these  walks  throu^  bowers,  lined  with  all  scnfta  of 
•hrubbery,  both  fruit  and  floral,  foraging,  as  it  were,  a  fringe  nfba 
their  sides,  and  skirting  thick  groves,  or  rather  thidcete  of  ei^ecy 
variety  of  trees.  Balsams,  cypresses,  pines,  firs,  eedars,  and  all  sorts 
of  foreign  evei^eens  are  seen  rising  from  the  aides  of  4he  steep  hil|| 
and  spaces  intervening  between  the  eireuits  of  t^  winding  and  ^lim^»m 
walks. 

At  mach  e^Lpeoae,  from  difierent  countries,  different  softs  of  trow 
peculiar  to  each,  have  been  procured,  and  planted  in  great  numhevs^oi^ 
the  mountaina'  side.  At  one  pointy  as  you  ascend,  you  suddenly  eooM 
upon  a  beautiful  «MKrble  temple,  with  columns  and  «tatuar|fy  all 
•domed  in  tl^e  most  tasteful  manner.  Entering  it,  you  find  ^ariofUa 
upartments  handsomely  furnished ;  floors  laid  in  mosaie>  mosaic  labial^ 
iiid  avery  thing  of  the  most  eostly  chnrsoter.  Then  i^pun  you 
ttp(m  a  littla  ibke,  fitted  with  red  and  golden  fishes,  spotting  .in 
pttia  water.  Gushuig.tortaDfts  araseen  at  one  time,  rushisig  aad  4aahi 
lag  down  the  mavataiti^s  mda,  thisongh  little  deep  rlwrinae,  mi  Ihni 
in  iMinting  IbriK  like  fousA^  Bftftriag' 


THJi^  PSUB¥K8»I.  sua 


•»•> 


UlS^er  up,  joii  reaoh  «  Matiy  oonatructed  eottag e»  pkimed  appai^Wilj 
aa  a  plaoe  of  velraal;^  and  bearing  aa  appropriate  modor  T3m  Stmi 
of  it  Ib  hlgU j  dacomted,  and  the  rear  rude  and  niBtic«  Swiaa  ««iii- 
itter  houses  ooeaaionaUy  present  themaelyes,  embowered  in  tbe  im>ii, 
A*^^*>"<^^^  still  iuriber,  you  reacb  a  tomb,  aromd  whioh  lie  some  miaa 
of  an  ancient  temple,  whoee  broken  arches  and  oolttmns  and  erambUng 
walls,  appear  at  a  litde  distance  through  the  trees.  The  tomb  ia 
^te  a  splen^d  aSair,  and  purports  to  be  that  of  some  hero,  who  had 
deoaoUfihed  the  ruins  of  the  caaUe  appearing  in  sight,  and  thus  ootab- 
liflhed  the  dominic»  of  his  hoaae, — all  of  which  is  ireagjaative,  mar^f 
for  artistic  efifect. 

Ascending  stUl  higher  and  higher,  you  reach  tbe  summit  of  the 
mountain,  on  which  is  a  casde  with  its  round  tower.  Entering  tUS| 
you  find  pleasant  and  handsomely  fiimished  rooms,  where  you  knft|r 
rest,  before  you  mount  the  pinnade,  to  take  a  view  of  the  whole  fUrf 
aeene. 

In  one  place,  as  you  pass  along,  you  come  wpon  a  beautiiiil  tensaea 
out  out  of  the  rock,  on  which  are  constructed  verUcal,  and  borisontattj 
reyolving  swings,  the  former  having  seats  like  chairs,  and  tlie  latter 
OMTved  horses,  saddled  and  prancing,  as  it  were,  iat  the  chase,  on 
wfaidi  you  are  invited  to  sit^  while,  by  some  hidden  madunery,  sa 
what  resembles  a  shed  near  at  hand,  the  nAoAe  ia  made  to  move 
without  your  seeing  how  it  is  done. 

Descending  by  another  range  of  walks  from  the  suoimii,  you  meet 
mde  summer  houses  on  tbe  way,  consitructed  after  the  Swiai  telnon, 
until,  unexpectedly,  you  find  the  path  has  brought  you  to  4ihe  enlianoa 
of  a  cavern  in  the  mountain's  side,  through  ste^  and  ru^gid  rocha. 
Pushing  your  way  into  the  cavern,  you  find  yourself,  presently,  by  its 
hidden  turns,  brought  into  darkness ;  and  just  as  you  begin  to  £ael  jraur 
laay  cautiously  as  you  proceed  forward,  light  breaks  in  froaa  an  aper* 
ture  in  the  vaulted  oeiling  of  the  eave,  or  through  a  crevice  in  tiie  side, 
^iflieieat  to  relieve  you  and  indicate  the  course  to  take.  Looking  on 
either  hand,  you  see  inasaive  columns  of  stalaolites»  aitppoffting  U^fik 
gotbic-like  looking  arches,  eovemdandlnnged,as  itwa0e,with  thn  nuiiM 
itiioenil*  After  various  turns  in  thia  lal^inth-Uke  cave,  you  sudteify 
come  upon  a  lake  of  water,  which,  spreading  out  before  yoii,  imns  anaeog 
moJtor  arches,  turning  and  twiating  round  their  atidaetftleal  piara,.and 
preaenting  to  view,  in  the  dim'light  that  bveaka  in  from  a  ^i^*MMkf^^  a 
psdspect  almost  bewildering.  But  yon  are  met  bjr  a  boalnian^.who 
lelieTas  yoar  pwplexi^,  and  for  a  Irane  &ities  jrou  and  jroiir  amnpa- 
ny  across  this  *' Stygian  Lake.'*  Soine  sin  or^^ght  inahidii^  say 
Q/mfmfi  after  hav^  tailed  a  law  miniitea  «n  benchM  'Mar  the 


SiyO  NOTES  07  FOREIGN  TRAVEL 

iVBtm^'edge,  embarked  with  this  Charon,  who  ferried  us  among  ihia 
tortuous  windings  of  the  lake  and  cavern,  unti],  suddenly,  we  emerged 
ik^m  the  &oade  of  a  rocky  diff,  on  to  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water. 

This  beautiful  lake  rolls  its  peaceful  stream  around  a  smiling  and 
iperdant  island,  on  which  stands  an  highly  finished  and  picturesque 
temple,  the  abode  of  nymphs,  whose  presence  is  indicated  by  admira- 
Ue  statues,  as  large  as  life,  and  exquisitely  wrought,  out  of  the  purest 
Parian  mai^ble.  Various  kinds  of  fishes  sported  in  the  dear  waters  of 
tiiis  lake,  which  passed  off  suddenly,  through  foaming  rapids,  tumbling 
and  dashing  themselves  down  along  their  rocky  duuinels  overhung 
with  thick  and  various  foliage.  A  bridge  is  thrown  across  the  ravine, 
civer  which  you  pass,  after  landing  from  the  boat,  having  previously 
been  conducted  through  a  Chinese  pagoda,  most  neatly  ornamented, 
and  into  a  circular  temple,  whose  roof  is  supported  with  columns, 
containing,  in  its  dosed  central  apartments,  accommodations  for  bath- 
ing. The  seats  of  the  former,  and  the  doors  jof  the  latter,  are  so 
cpnstructed,  that  as  you  sit  down  upon  the  one,  or  open  the  other, 
light  jets  of  water  are  thrown  with  startling  efiect  upon  you,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  your  company. 

This- last  elysian  like  scenery  closes. your  journey,  and  a  few  turns 
among  the  shaded  walks,  bring  you  out  upon  the  marble  terrace  at 
the  other  end  from  whidi  you  commenced  your  ascent.  The  water, 
which  supplies  the  lakes  and  pools  for  fish,  and  is  seen,  spouting  like 
Ibuntains,  or  dashing  like  torrents,  in  different  places  on  the  mountain 
sides,  is  all  brought  by  conduits  from  streams  in  adjoining  and  higher 
•ources.  The  stalactites,  too,  are  all  imported  from  different  places, 
and  so  arranged  that  you  would  not  supp6se  they  had  ever  been  else- 
where formed. 

While  the  great  body  of  the  cave  is  dry,  so  that  no  water  fidls  upon 
you,  and  no  dampness  ever  offends  you,  in  some  places  the  percola- 
ting rills  are  seen,  and  stalactites  in  actual  process  of  formation,  thus 
helping  the  illusion.  Immense  must  have  been  the  money  exp^ided 
on  this  fairy  scenery,' and  not  among  the  least  expenditures  must  have 
been  that  for  a  massy  stone  wall,  surrounding  the  whole,  and  running 
VBjf  the  sides  of  another  mountain  in  the  rear,  left  in  all  its  native  and 
ro^ed  grandeur. 

'  The  Pellevicini  fiunily  have  a  splendid  palace  in  the  dty  of  Genoa, 
and  the  legend  says,  the  name  was  given,  from  the  success  with  which 
the  founder  of  the  house  obtained,  appropriated,  and  secured  to  him- 
■elf,  the  property  of  a  foreign  government — ^Pellevidni  in  Italian 
xneaning,  ^  take  from  your  neighbor.*' 

Odober  18.  Reached  livomo,  as  it  is  here  called  and  written,  or 


LBaHOBN,^FXOBBErOHl 


Ml 

=3 


Leghorn,  this  A.  M.,  about  six  o'clock,  after  another  stormj  passage 
in  the  French  steamboat  Dante,  which  left  last  eveDing  at  six,  haviqg 
taken  our  passage  at  Nice  to  this  place.  It  was  not  till  betwaoi 
seven  and  eight  A.  M.  that  we  got  ashore.  Our  passports  were  fiifi 
taken  ashore  by  the  Captain ;  then  a  boat  full  of  dogano  men,  or  ta^ 
torn  house  officers,  came  aboard,  and  the  baggage  was  assorted.  On 
leaving  the  steamer  we  were  taken  first  into  the  police  office,  where  wa 
received  a  permit  to  go  ashore,  and  were  told  that  we  must  give  that 
permit  to  the  keeper  of  our  hotel,  who  would  present  it,  and  have  tli0 
proper  vizees  made.  Then  we  were  paraded  before  custom  hooaa 
officers,  guarded  hj  a  police  force ;  our  trunks  were  unlocked  and  sac* 
amined,  but  with  courteous  care.  To  my.  great  amazement  I  was 
asked  whether  I  had  in  mine,  either  arms  or  tobacco,  both  of  whUtt 
I  hold  in  abomination.  Being  informed  that  I  had  neither,  no  furtihaf 
search  was  made.  The  boatmen  that  took  us  to  the  custom  housii 
waited  for  us,  and  rowed  us  out  of  the  harbor,  and  along  the  canal  to 
to  the  San  Marco  hotel,  where  we  had  determined  to  stop,  and  whioh 
in  no  respect  disappointed  us.  Our  host,  Mr.  Smith  gave  us  exceileQi 
entertainment,  and  our  rooms  were  well  furnished  and  neatly  kepk 
Having  partaken  of  breakfast,  by  three  quarters  past  ten  o'dock  A.  H* 
we  were  on  our  way  to  Firenze,  or  Florence,  which  we  found  we  could 
by  rail  'road  visit  that  day  and  return,  leaving  us  time  to-morrow  to 
go  to  Pisa,  and  return  so  as  to  take  the  boat,  which  is  to  sail  in  tbe 
evening  for  Civita  Vecchia. 

We  reached  Florence  between  one  and  two  p.  m.,  and  visited,  fixai 
the  Palais  Petti,  the  palace  of  the  Duke  of  Tuscany,  because  visttofs 
are  only  permitted  to  enter  it  from  eleven  a.  m.  to  three  p.  m.  The 
different  halls,  whose  ceilings  were  splendidly  gilt  and  adorned  with 
fresco  paintings,  were  all  enriched  with  costly  and  superior  works,  from 
the  hands  of  the  first  Italian  artists.     I  did  not  find  the  satis&ction  that 

4 

many  speak  of,  in  viewing  them,  because  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 
paintings  wei  e  in  accordance  with  the  idolatrous  taste  of  this  people. 
The  Saviour,  in  every  variety  of  condition  and  sufiering,  and  the 
Virgin,  in  all  the  different  stages  of  her  history,  from  the  birth  of 
Christ  to  what  these  poor  idolators  call  her  ascension,  formed,  it 
tseemed  to  me,  if  not  the  majority,  a  very  large  proportion.  However 
exquisite  may  be  the  paintings,  and  the  skill  the  artists  have  displayed, 
I  find  that  I  can  take  very  little,  if  any,  enjoyment  in  their  contempla- 
tion. It  always  pains  me  to  look  upon  a  representation  of  the 
person  of  the  Saviour.  He  is,  in  my  estimation,  beyond  all  compari^ 
son  with  the  sons  of  men ;  and  the  attempt  to  represent  Him  on 
canvas  appears  to  me  almost  impious.    He  is  ^'  the  Holy  One,"  who 


MS  HOBn:<Hr  naoHosr  nHUVBL. 

Mf»  ^  40 :  25)^  '^To  whom  irfll  ^  iOMmt  er  AaB  I  beofwir 
I  kBvte  ibr  yeara  aludM  to  baniib  from  my  mind  eipery  ideil  nopi^ 
MOtftlioii  cif  HIb  iMman  features,  end  to  tkink  of  Hins,  in  mj  ctntaim- 
plation  and  pniya*s,  aa  hiunanity  in.  its  perfBCtion,  btti  ao  uniAed  iriili 
tka  Deity  aa  to  render  it  forever  impoaaible  to  fi>rm,  by  Bwana  ef 
Idctorial  rq>reaeiitaJtioii8,  any  approzimajte  conoepUoD  of  tbe  glorkv«f 
Hk  peraoD.  Jobn'a  didsoription  of  the  vimon  ke  kad  *of  Him,  aa 
le^orded  in  the  first  cfiapter  of  Revelation,  is  enough  for  me,  and 
tnoaeands  all  the  power  of  my  imagination,  and  ail  tibe  art  of  the 
psDOil  or  dbiael.  I  pauae,  I  wonder,  and  I  adore  a  Being  of  8ii<^  inoon- 
waivable  mai^esty  and  glory.  From  all  these  artificiai  effinrts  to  de|riet 
Him,  I  turn  away,  lest  my  imagination  may  beeome  aflfeeted  by  Ike 
reminiaoenoe  of  them,  and  begin  itself  to  paint  and  earve,  and  violate 
the  spirit  0(  the  seoond  commandment  aa  truly  aa  theae  arttats*  have 
doM  ita  letter. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  praise  lavished  on  variooa  Madoitwaaf  >a 
Tcory  different  olaaa  of  paintings — ^I  never  aaw  one  that  mais  an 
ittpreaaion  on  my  mind,  which  did  not  as  quiddy  disq>pear  aa  te 
reieetion  from  the  glaas,  until  the  one  I  beheld  this  day,  in  the  Petti 
palace.  There  waa  acaroely  any  idolatroua  attempt^  by  ike  halo  of 
B^  around  the  head,  to  deify  Uie  Virgin — ^nor  waa  Ikere  any  aromd 
Aat  of  the  infrnt  in  her  arms;  but  only  a  sli^^t  radianoe  over  tke 
head  of  a  ckUd  standing  by  her  knee,  repreaenting  John  tiie  B^tiat. 
Hie  aweet  expression  of  countenance  of  the  whole  group,  said  the 
admirable  style  of  the  pmting,  produced  a  atrong  impreaaioii,  aifect- 
ing  me  almoat  to  teara ;  but,  on  analysdng  the  feeling,  I  fbinid  that  like 
countenance  of  the  child  in  the  arms,  whidi  waa  that  of  a  babe  ^ 
aome  five  or  aix  months  of  age,  its  soft  and  cheeiiul  eyea,  the  color  of 
Ha  hair,  and  the  tout  eruemble  of  the  little  figure,  recalled  to  my 
mamory  a  dear  departed  child,  as  he  appeared  when  an  infiwt  Aa  a 
atmplo  effint  of  the  pencil,  to  represent  a  mother  and  two  aweet  litde 
babea,  it  is  the  moat  fiudnating  picture  I  ever  aaw ;  but  aa  aa  cinrt 
to  extort  idoiatroua  r^ard,  my  soul  loathed  it,  and  I  turned  from  h 
with  a  heart  fidl  of  grief. 

Another  picture,  however,  in  the  aame  hall,  produoed  very  difhrent 
aettsations.  It  waa  the  portaitof  John  the  Evangdiat,  in  the  attitiide 
<tf  deep  and  devout  attention,  with  a  pen  in  hia  hand,  juat  ready  to 
irrite,  and  hia  ftkoe  and  eycte  directed  heavenward,  aa  though  Ua  whole 
aoul  waa  absorbed  in  the  communication  from  above,  iHtl  waa  htaig 
di^rfnely  made  to  him.  It  ia  from  thependl  of  Garni  Dohi,  aaiatkat 
alao  of  the  virgin,  and  the  infknta  above  referred  to. 

Another  ptoture,  alao,  haa  left  ita  impreaaion  deeply  engraTM  upon 


CEMBrafr  OtP' W'  ^^Bffflf 


■■■■in 


mqHBEMettOiy;  It  wia»  tJM*  of:  Gftm,  after  htfviBg  dain  Abel,  tunuag 
ItHfi  iTOth  hotnfor  and  lemoise  from  the  body,  at  the  moment^  as*  ft 
tr^ve^  irii^  it  wati  first  approached,  by  Adam  and  Eve  affeeled  vMi 
OYerwhelming  grief. 

The  paintings  generally  were  of  a'character  muoh  superior  to  any- 
duof  I  ever  saw  iu  Lofidon,  Paris  or  Turin.  The  statue  of  Ae  Venus 
4«  Medio!  by  Canova,  of  which  I  had  heard  and  read  so  mueh,  exceedad 
anyduaig  1  ever  saw  of  the  productions  of  the  chisel.  It  is  a  perfect 
wiarkafart;  and  stands  in  the  centre  of  a  hall,  of  some  flAeenfttt 
ai^iiarey  surrounded  with  an  iron  railing  to  prevent  visitors  from  aosl- 
if^  it  with  thfiu*  touch.  The  marble  is  of  the  purest  kind.  In  aaotker 
liaU»  are  two  lai^er  pieces  of  statuary  in  bronze,  and  admiraUy  exeaii- 
ted, — Cain  bowed  with  horror,  and  Abel  lying  lifeless  before  him  at  a 
skost  distttsoe*  The  form  and  features  of  Abel«  and  the  attitude-  of 
GaiByare  adpurable* 

From  the  Petti  Palace  we  passed  to  the  chapd  of  the  Medioi,  whkh 
iffHi  just  about  being  closed,  but  the  soldier  guards  and  cooderge,  ub- 
4fMtanding  that  we  were  strangers  fh>m  the  United  States,  re-opentd 
jt^and  CDodueted  us  into  the  lofty  and  spacious  hall.  It  is  a  large  oo- 
ligaiiol  building  called  the  Chapel  de  Medici,  originally  intended  as  the 
jlim»  Cm  ttansftrring  from  Palestine  ^''the  holy  sepuldve,"  but  ftiUag 
itt^that»  has  been  made  the  Mausoleum  of  the  &mi]y  of  dw  celebrated 
Vevdinand  de.  Medici.  He  was  unele  to  the  Gwdinal,  who  bore  the 
iMne  of  hbdksL  You  pass  tlnrough  a  crypt,  that  serves  the  purpote  ef 
strengthening  the  foundation  of  the  edifice.  Ascending  from  it^  you 
SKter  the  lo&y  chamber  or  rotunda  where  the  tombs  of  the  Amily  aape 
SRSnged.  The  floor  is  paved  with  stucco,  but  the  walls  are  all  oo«- 
.«red  with  every  variety  of  the  choicest  and  moat  costly  marble— ped^ 
JQMnts^pilsstrea,.  paanels,  nitdiea,  sarcophagi^  &c  !  There  are  no 
Ijight»b«t  what  are  immediately  beneath  the  dome.  On  each  aide  of 
the  braiding  stands  a  massy  sarcophagus,  over  whfoh  is  an  alcove  fo9  a 
ilstue  surmounting  it.  Two  statues  only,  one  of  Cosmos  II,  and  llw 
ofebex^of  Ferdinand  L  the  latter  the  founder  of  die  house,  are  in.  plaoa. 
ikBttmtii  altar  is  attached  to  one  of  the  sides,  devated  but  a  littts 
6mn  the  floor.  TIa  corresponding  sides  of  the  dome  an  covsNd 
irilh  tha  richest  firesoo  paintings  I  have  yet  seey  and  the  mouUSngr  of 
Iha  uatoRvening  spaees  are  very  richly  gilt.  Tne  8ub|ects  of  the  fteiM 
pnntingsare  the  presentation  of  Eve  to  Adam,  die  slaying  of  Ahd.  bj 
Qm^  Noah^s  ofiering^  Abraham  oflTering  up  kaae,  Mones  desomdlnf 
Aom  Sinai  with,  die  tablea  of  the  law,  die  crucifixion^  the  aaoension  of 
4fctiSiivior,aad  the  last  judgment  Above  these  paintings  was,  in.  eadi 
the  full  portrait  of  an  apostle  or  prophet    There  i^  a  pRnAuiHi 


^  U4  NOTBS  OF  FOKfflGir  TRAVK. 

• 

of  costly  marbles,  precious  stones,  and  gems,  in^voiight  wit^  Tsrioitt 
Mosaic  work.  The  crown  and  the  cushion  of  the  grand  duke  are  full 
of  precious  gems,  and  the  sarcophagus  is  said  to  be  a  dief  d'  oeuvre  of 
its  kind. 

From  this  chapel  we  passed  to  the  church  of  San  Lorenzo,  exter- 
nally a  dingy,  rough  piece  of  brick  work,  the  front  of  whidi  has  never 
been  completed,  although  the  drawings  for  it  by  Michael  Angelo  are 
yet  in  existence.  The  Medicean  chapel,  which  is  at  the  back  of  tlie 
choir  of  this  building,  is  that  which  gives  to  tiie  whole  cluster  its  chief 
value.  The  original  basilica,  whose  site  it  occupies,  was  the  oldest 
structure  in  the  city,  built  in  the  fourth  century,  and  was  erected  by 
St.  Ambrose  in  A.  D.  393,  but  being  injured  by  fire  in  the  fifteoitli 
century,  was  rebuilt  in  a  better  style.  Its  Corinthian  columns  are  in 
fine  proportion,  supporting  circular  arches  springing  from  the  squared 
cornice  above  their  capitals.  The  details'are  taken  with  predslonfronl 
the  Roman  models ;  but  the  lamb  and  the  book  with  seven  seals,  occu- 
py the  place  of  heathen  emblems.  Two  pulpits  in  the  nave  exhibit 
bronze  has  reliefs  representing  the  passion  and  resurrection  of  Chrirt. 

The  Duomo  or  Cathedral  called  Santa  Maria  del  Fiore  is  the  great- 
est building  in  the  city,  for  size  and  external  splendor.  Its  walls  are 
cased  with  marble  on  the  outside.  I ts^  length  is  454  feet,  its  height 
from  the  pavement  to  the  top  of  the  cross,  nearly  387,  and  that  of  the 
nave  153  feet  and  its  aisles  9G  feet.  The  transept  is  334  feet  long. 
The  dome  is,  in  some  respects,  said  to  be  superior  to  that  of  St.  Peter'iB 
at  Rome.  It  formed  the  model  for  the  latter,  and  was  studied  in  great 
admiration  by  Michael  Angelo.  The  interior  is  dark,  its  windows 
being  small,  but  beautifully  stained  with  rich  colored  glass.  Over 
the  principal  door  is  a  mosaic  representing  the  coronation  of  tha  vir- 
gin. The  interior  of  the  cupola,  which  is  octagonal  138  feet  in  diame- 
ter, and  134  feet  in  height,  is  painted  in'fresco,  representing  paradise, 
prophets,  angels,  saints,  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  punishment 
of  the  wicked.  Four  pointed  arches,  not  truly  gothic,  having  key 
stones  with  armorial  bearings  sculptured  on  them,  stretch  along  the 
whole  length  of  the  nave.  The  choir  and  high  altar  are  beneath  the 
dome.  Behind  this  altar  is  a  group,  consisting  of  Joseph  of  Arima- 
thea,  the  Virgin,  and  ^gothcr  Mary  entombing  the  body  of  our  Lord ; 
but  it  is  not  finished, — ^the  work  of  Michael  Angelo.  Portraits  and 
paintings  are  attached  to  the  walls,  but  the  light  is  so  imperfect,  thait 
it  is  difficult  to  see  them.  The  campanile  or  bell  tower,  stands  separ- 
ate from  the  edifice.  It  is  a  square  tower  rising  to  the  height  of  two 
hundred  seventy  three  and  three  fourths  feet,  by  no  means  as  bights 
tlie  dome.     It  is  built  of  polished  breccia  marble ;  the  basement  storyv 


1CC6A10  MANUFACMttr.  '  i4K 


iThich  is  thehigbest,  oontaining  two  ranges  of  relief^;  the  tow^  r^e- 
senting  the  progress  of  human  civilization  ;  and  above  them  sixteen 
statues,  four  on  a  side,  larger  than  life ;  the  four  Evangelists  being  on 
the  west  side,  on  the  east  four  saints,  on  the  north  four  sybils,  and  on 
the  south  four  prophets. 

Leaving  the  Cathedral,  at  our  request,  our  valet  de  plaoe  conducted 
us  to  a  manufactory  where  some  of  the  most  finished  and  costly  mo- 
saic work  is  executed.  The  foreman  received  us  kindly,  and  allowed 
us  to  examine  the  materials,  and  witness  the  operations,  as  well  as  ex- 
hibited to  us  some  of  the  exquisitely  finished  pieces  which  had  been 
prepared  to  order.  Two  tables  particularly  attracted  my  attention, 
by  the  perfection  of  colors  and  shadings  in  their  "  still  life"  repres^- 
tations.  On  one  of  them  some  five  years  labor  had  been  bestowed,  at 
a  cost  of  five  thousand  dollars.  It  was  to  adorn  the  palace  of  some 
English  nobleman,  who  had  ordered  it.  I  recognized  the  names  of 
several  of  our  American  "  merchant  princes"  for  whose  splendid  dwel- 
lings similar  costly  orders  were  being  executed. 

'Mosaic  work,  whether  of  marble  or  of  precious  stones,  differed  but 
little  in  the  manner  of  operation.  The  ground  is  generally  black  or 
white  marble,  on  which  the  design  is  first  sketched,  and  afterwards  cut 
with  a  chisel.  The  cavities,  an  inch  or  more  in  depth,  where  the  mo- 
saic is  entirely  of  marble,  are  filled  up  with  pieces  of  the  proper  color, 
first  fashioned  afler  the  design,  and  induced  to  the  appropriate  thick- 
ness. The  pieces  so  inserted,  are  made  to  hold  by  means  of  a  stucco 
of  lime  and  marble  dust,  or  a  mastic,  differently  prepared  by  different 
workmen,  after  which  the  whole  is  polished  with  a  soft  stone. 

Very  delicate  instruments  are  required  for  mosaic  work  on  precious 
stones,  such  as  the  wheels,  drills,  plates,  &c.,  used  by  lapidaries.  The 
materials,  being  gems  and  very  costly,  are  made  to  go  as  far  as  possi- 
ble by  being  sawn  into  leaves  exceedingly  thin.  I  was  surprised  to 
-notice  the  dexterity  and  skill  of  some  boys  engaged  in  this  part  of  the 
work.  The  stones,  or  pieces  to  be  sawed,  were  put  into  a  delicate 
vice,  in  which,  with  a  sort  of  bow  or  saw  of  fine  brass  wire,  bent  on  a 
piece  of  springy  wood,  together  with  emery  moistened  with  water,  the 
leaf  is  fashioned,  according  to  the  strokes  or  sketch  of  the  design  first 
made  on  paper  and  afterwards  glued  to  the  piece.  When  the  pieces 
are  sufficient  in  number  to  form  a  flower  or  fruit,  or  some  part  of  the 
design,  they  are  applied.  Brass  files  or '  rasps  and  drills,  and  other 
lapidary  instruments,  are  used  to  bring  the  pieces  to  the  exact  dimen- 
sions required  by  the  pattern.  The  matter,  with  which  they  are  aH 
joined  together,  is  a  stucco  or  mastic,  laid  very  thin  on  the  leaves  as 
they  are  fashioned,  in  which  state  they  are  applied  with  plyers.    I  waiS 


ttwi  dtmwid^  U  made  upon  the-  aig)it  and  time. 

AfUrbudbgi  fora^Msaon,  witiieaaed  tliAla^  wmj  ao»- 

priaed  at  the  imiDeBae  ooat  for  work  of  tkia  deaeri{itioa.  How  won- 
derful has  been  the  skill  with  which  God,  in  his  providenoe,  has  orownad 
tkoao  who  are  diligent,  patient  and  persevering  in  their  vocation,  in 
Ofwy  4ge,  fixmi  the  days  of  ^  Bezaleel  and  Aboliah,  and  every  wise 
bearted  man  in  whose  heart  the  Lord  put  the  wMfxaP  reqniaifes  far 
.various  required  ornamental  work. 

From  this  we  passed  to  the  Batistero  di  San  GiovannL  TlieGhaMll, 
oenaecrated  to  St.  John  the  Baptist^  in  Italian  oities,  is  the  only  ono  in 
idiidi  haptism  is  administered.  We  saw  two  children  being  pns- 
aented  at  the  font^  and  the  ceremony  <^  baptiam,  after  the  Roman 
Qsliliolio  ritual,  a  cold  and  formal  aflhir,  being  administered,  aa  in  paaa- 
ing  we  stepped  for  observation.  Its  three  doors  are  <^  lu^bily  otna- 
mented  bronxe.  They  are  its  chief  ornament  Hie  building  is  in  form 
of  an  octagon,  supporting  &  cupola  and  laintem,  its  evtemal  wall  being 
of  black  and  white  nuurble,  having  been  erected  in  1888-i^  Hie 
atmeUire  which  this  coating  covers,  it  is  said^  by  the  early  pagSB0, 
Blorentine,  waa  the  temple  of  their  tutelar  deity  liars.  Hie  cupola 
la  oovtf  ed  with  mosaies — and  part  also  of  the  walls — repreBenting, 
iob  the  centre,  in  gigantic  figure,  the  Savior,  the  rewards  and  punish 
HKsats  of  the  just  and  wicked,  the  orders  and  powers  of  the  oeieatial 
tttsnehy,  prophets^  patriarchs,  and  the  bishops  of  Florence. 

We  had  atopped  at  the  Hotel  de  New  York,  a  q>acioua  buildhig, 
fronting  on  the  river  Axno,  and  admirably  kept,  to  which  we  returned 
far  dinner.  Both  on  reaching  the  hotel,  and  at  the  cars  on  leaving,  a 
fanale  neatly  dressed  in  black,  and  of  handsome  modest  appeaianoi^ 
having  her  haada  filled  with  very  beautiful  flowers^  displayed  aome 
aeal  and  dexterity  in  the  presentation  of  her  bouqueta.  Ab  our  ear 
niage  drove  past  she  pitched  one  into  my  lap,  with  a  nod  and  amile  of 
weloomei.  and  I  asw  her  no  more,  till  I  found  her,  asaidttoua  in  her  vo- 
eatimiiatthe  rail  road  dq>ot,  distributing  her  gifts  to  gentlemen,  as 
they  entered  the  cara,  pronouncing  her  a  Dio  in  sweet  Italian  tonssi 
and  adding  in  French  the  expression  of  her  Kood  will  in  thecuatomasy 
phssae^^bon  voyage."  I  was  reminded  wben  greeted  with  her  fiisA 
bouquet,  of  an  account  I  had  read  from  some  letter  published^  by  an 
JUnerican  traveller,  of  the  circumstance  offals  having  been  nmilasrlgr 
jnsated  in  the  same  place,  finom  which  he  drew  the  inference  that  it  waa 
fuatomary  with  the  ladiea  of  Florence  in  thia  way  to  ei^M^esa  their  good 
wiU  to  strangera.  Feeling  aomewhat  curious,  to  asoertain  whether  ha 
;hAd  rightly  interpreted  the  incident^  I  enquired  of  those  competent  to 
give  me  information,  and  learned,  that  so  far  fitnn  its  being  a  custom  of 


IHBCUBUISOII  09  BOl^QUSfB.  Ml 


/ 


lli«plaedf«rladi«rgeiienJl}rto  tiik«  Mrab  [liberties  wttli  straiigen, 
tfMni'  WM  a  Hmited  numlber,  who  w«re  privileged  to  4istri1»Qte  bott- 
fdito  in  this  wwf,  not  avowedly  ii>r  purpose  of  sale,  b«t  witit  tbe  eat* 
feetatlon  of  receiving  in  retom  some  monied  grataiCj  to  bederotedlto 
nUigiousor  dkaritablo  use.  1  saw  but  tho one^  whose fimie I leanied Is 
W«Ii  established  for  her  assiduous  attenticn  in  her  work  of  bener o- 
hmee.  Hiis  servioe  is  performed  as  a  work  of  piety,  and  her  whole 
appearance  and  manner  indicated,  bolii  her  sinceritj  in  the  work,  and 
the  absence  of  every  thing  that  could  excite  suspidons  un&vorable  to 
iNir  reputation.  What  a  power  is  there  in  the  female  heart  when-  en. 
listed  <m  th»  side  <^  virtue  and  religion !  It  shines  out  often  in  much 
of  its  native  lustre,  even  when  dimmed  and  embarrased  by  the  infhi- 
^  enoe  of  false  and  idolatrous  views  of  religion. 

t  could  have  wished  for  time  to  allow  me,  if  practicable,  to  visit  the 
noble  prisoners  here  suffering  for  '*  the  word  of  €rod,  the  Madini  ihm- 
Sf^^  whose  faith  and  martyr  like  patience  and  fbrtitude,  have  attracted 
the  atX;eation  and  excited  the  admiration  of  the  protestant  world.  Tke 
Kiglish  people  have  awaked  upon  the  subject,  and  a  strong  sympaliqr 
has  urged  to  measures  Ibr  their  release.  A  deputation  has  been  sent 
Ibv  the  pnipose  of  appealing  to  the  grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  on  Hieir 
Mial^  and  of  endeavoring  to  induce  the  Pope  to  use  his  influence  wMi 
Vm  for  their  liberation.  But  all  moral  and  christian  conmderatlons 
thna  far,  have  proved  unavailing.  The  Pope  and  civil  mAen  of  ttis 
attttehristian  and  idolatrous  church  of  Rome,  yidd  only  to  the  array  of 
force  that  perils  their  safbty,  or  excites  their  fears.  It  is  very  cofff«- 
nient|  when  occasion  serves  and  the  suffers  is  protestant,  for  the  fbr- 
nier  te  say,  he  cannot  interfere  with  the  administration  of  the  Ddie 
of  Tuscany ;  but  let  the  demonstration  be  made  against  the  dnirek, 
and  quidcly  a  different  policy  would  be  adopted. 

Our  stay  in  Florence  was  necessarily  limited,  fiur  too  short  for  ne 
to  gratify  my  curionty  or  enquire  for  resident  Americans.  We  re- 
tnmed  by  the  rail  road  to  Leghorn  about  eight  in  the  evei^ng. 


craAFrBB  xiy. 

iVMV— i^cRS  do  CkufaKerif^Onivemt^f  Caihedrd^  Leaning  Towtr^  da. 

Pba,  October  14.  This  day  vn  went  at  an  early  hour  to Fl»lq^ 
the  eara  Having  taken  breakfimt  at  the  Hotel  Victorisy  and  guidsd 
hj  avalet  de  place,  we  visited  first  the  Piaoa  de'  Ckvalicri,  tfaeanoiMit 
eentre  of  the  city,  where  in  the  days  of  the  Bcpublic^  was  the  Fomm, 
but  upon  the  establlaliment  of  the  order  of  St.  Staphen,  it^  and  the  anr* 
founding  budding,  became  the  property  of  this  pseudo-cUvalroaa  in- 
stitution by  the  grant  of  Cosmo  i^  in  1561. 


:348  K0TB8  01  FOBSIGN  TBAYBL 

•»l     ■nil  I  ■  ■  I   ^  III      ■     W     ■      ■      I        fc     I  I  I  ■         ■  M  Mill  ,    I  ■ 

The  orckr  was  an  imitatioii  of  that  of  the  knights  of  Hidta ;  but  its 
oristocratio  character  rendered  it  unpopular  in  Tuscany.  The  dmrcii 
of  the  convent  is  a  single  nave,  having  nothing  remarkable  in  its  arcb- 
.  itecture.  Its  chief  decorations  are  the  paintings  of  the  ceiling,  the  high 
altar,  and  the  warlike  memorials  hung  upon  the  walls.  Among  the 
paintings,  I  noticed  that  of  the  institution  of  the  .order,  said  to  oontam 
many  excellent  portraits ;  the  return  in  triumph  of  the  galleys  of  the 
order  from  the  battle  of  Lepanto ;  the  embarking  of  Mary  de  Medici 
for  France,  to  marry  Henry  the  Fourth ;  the  capture,  in  the  Arcbi- 
pelago,  of  five  Turkish  galleys  by  those  of  the  order ;  the  assault  and 
plundering  of  Prevesa,  in  Albania ;  and  that  also  of  Bona,  on  the 
African  coast — ^when  the  knights,  among  their  prey,  carried  off  1,500 
inhabitants  as  slaves ! ! !  ^ 

The  high  altar  is  composed  of  very  rich  colored  marbles,  predous 
stones  and  gilt  bronze.  Great  pains  and  labor  have  been  bestowed 
upon  it.  It  has  been  highly  over- wrought,  and  its  splendid  ornaments 
do  not  compensate  for  the  want  of  chaste  simplicity.  The  porphyry 
and  jasper  are  both  very  fine.  St.  Stephen  (not  the  first  martyr,  bat 
the  protector  of  the  order)  appears  in  the  centre,  and  on  the  lefl  hand, 
a  picture  of  the  nativity,  in  which  Mary  appears  in  the  attitade  of 
adoration,  with  the  motto,  in  Latin,  "  quern  genuit  adoravit,^' — whom 
9he  bore  sh4  worshipped.  Another  painting,  from  the  pencil  of  Ludo- 
vieo  Buti,  and  dating  about  1590,  represents  the  miracle  of  the  loaves 
and  fishes ;  but  the  costumes  of  the  piece  are  of  the  age  of  the  artist, 
and  not  of  the  time  or  people  when  the  miracle  was  wrought.  A 
series  of  paintings  exhibit  the  diicf  inddenta  in  the  life  of  the  patron 
aaint.  The  organs  of  this  church  are  said  to  be  among  the  finest  in 
Italy.'  But  that  which  attracts  the  chief  attention  on  the  part  of 
visitors  to  it,  is  the  display  of  Turkish  military  trophies,  taken  by  the 
knights, — such  as  banners,  hung  along  the  walls ;  shields,  horse-tails, 
lanterns,  scjimetars,  dec,  arranged  in  a  picturesque  manner. 

I  could  not  help  wondering,  as  I  gazed  upon  these  implements  and 
memorials  of  bloody  and  murderous  death,  at  the  awful  blindness  and 
hardness  of  heart  that  characterize  the  papal  idolatry.  Their  religion 
inspires  and  cherishes  the  fiercest  passions  of  the  human  heart  It 
delights  in  blood.  Such  has  been  its  history ;  such  is  the  spirit  it 
breathes.  Let  it  but  be,  in  the  estimation  of  these  poor  idc^ators,  for 
the  church  and  the  glory  of  God,  and  there  is  no  cruelty  too  great,  no 
torture  too  severe  and  shocking,  no  murder  and  havoc  too  horrible 
and  revolting,  but  it  will  sanction  and  applaud.  How  perfectly 
opposed  is  its  spirit  to  that  of  the  peace-speaking,  long-suffering,  and 
foigiving  example  of  that  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  whose  vicar  on  earth  iti 
idolized  head  wickedly  and  impioasly  chums  to  be. 


UNIVBRSITY/— OATHBDltAL.  349' 


*I  groaned  in  spirit,  wben,  with  siich  reflections,  I  witnessed,  among 
all  these  memorials  of  blood  and  war,  the  celebration  of  what  they 
eall  their  religious  solemnities.  A  priest  was  mumbling  mass  before 
i2ie  altar,  and  performing  his  manipulations  and  genuflexions  with  a 
little,  pleasant-looking  boy^,  of  fourteen  years,  waiting  on  him.  The 
lad  turned  his  head  round  as  I  drew  near,  and  nodded  to  me  with  a 
Tery  swjdet  smile.  Although  he  rung  his  bell  and  attended  to  the 
ritual  fonns,  at  the  right  time,  yet  he  kept  constantly  looking 
toward  me  and  smiling,  as  if  he  wished  to  converse.  I  'exchanged 
salutations  with  him;  and,  when  passing  from  him,  he  pleasantly 
nodded  his  addio^  after  I  had  lidd  my  hand  on  his  head  and  patted  his 
cheek.  But  the  sight  of  the  poor  boy  haunted  me,  and  stirred  up  my 
deepest  feelings  of  commiseration,  f1*om  which  I  found  no  relief,  tillf 
as  I  passed  along  the  streets  in  a  retired  way,  &lling  behind  my  com- 
pany, I  found  an  opportunity  to  pour  out  my  earnest  prayer  to  God, 
that  he  might  be  brought  out  of  darkness  into  light,  and  delivered 
from  the  horrible,  idolatrous  service  into  the  conducting  of  which,  he 
is  now  being  drilled.  A  similar  recognition  of  good  will  I  had  from 
another  lad,  under  like  circumstances,  afterwards,  in  one  of  the  chapels 
of  the  Duomo, — who  actually  came  out  from  his  place,  when  he  was 
waiting  on  the  priest,  to  salute  me  and  speak  with  me. 

From  this  place  we  passed  to  the  University.  It  has  six  professor- 
ships, and  numbers  from  five  to  six  hundred  students,  whose  presence 
m  Pisa  contribute  not  a  little  to  the  active  business  of  the  city.  The 
Cathedral  and  its  tower  occupied  the  chief  remaining  part  of  our  time. 
The  cathedral,  baptistery,  campanile  and  campo-santo  are  as  remarkable 
a  group  of  buildings  as  any  in  Italy.  The  baptistery  is  undergoing  re-> 
pairs,  so  that  we  could  not  see  the  interior  of  its  dome.  The  building 
said  to  be  of  very  fine  architecture,  is  100  feet  diameter  in  the  clearii 
Its  walls  are  eight  feet  six  inches  thick.  Its  covering  a  double  dome^ 
the  inner  conical,  the  outer  hemispherical, — ^and  the  height  of  the  cu« 
pola  102  feet.  You  enter  by  a  decorated  door  way — ^the  general  levd 
of  the  interior  is  three  steps  lower  than  the  sill,  the  side  around  the 
wall  being  raised  for  the  easier  aspect  of  the  baptismal  ceremony.  An 
aisle  or  corridor  nins  around  the  interior  walls  of  the  building.  It  is 
formed  by  eight  granite  columns,  and  four  pieces,  from  whidi  spring 
semi  circular  arches  supporting  an  upper  gallery.  The  sculpture  on 
the  exterior  is  principally  on  the  eastern  door  way — representing  tbe 
martyrdom  of  the  Baptist.  The  font  is  in  an  enclosure  in  l^e  centre  of 
the  rotunda,  about  fourteen  feet  in  diameter  and  of  suflicient  depth  for 
immersion,  which  was  onoe  the  form  of  baptism  practised  here.  At 
ths  eomen  are  four  Mnall  basins.    From  ^e  centre  of  the  font  rises  a. 


Hf  NOm  OF  TOEBIfiW  T&ATWU 


pillar  Aippoptiog  the  %iire  of  St  John  tbe  Baptist  Ihapalpil  oftiya 
biulding  is  the  most  atiiking  part  ofit  It  isa  heKagcmreafaagcanBiiia. 
pSlara,  aeyen  for  tbe  pulpit,  one  at  each  «Dgle,  one  in  ^  centie  mA 
tmo  ai^portiQg  the  stair  oaae.  It  la  of  atone,  two  of  the  ooluaui  of 
pariaa  marble,  and  five  of  diffiarent  aorta  of  granite.  S3ie  «diuatn 
akaad  upon  figures  seated  or  rather  Grouchingv  a  girafie,  a  lion,  and  a 
tigsr  or  leopard  alternately,  exoqpt  three,  vMok^rest  upcm  a^aolid  haaa 
and  evidently  are  the  pulpits'  main  support  The  pannela  of  the  pill- 
pita  contam  has  rdie&,  representing  the  nativity  of  Christ,  the  ado- 
ration of  the  magi,  the  presentaticxi  of  the  in&nt  Savior  in  the  templa, 
the  omunfi^mon,  and  the  last  judgment  Over  die  ooknuis  at  the  an- 
gles of  the  hexagon  are  fitotues  of  different  sorts,  one  of  whinhl  noticed 
^f!aa  of  a  man  perfectly  nude.  It  atmok  me  altogether  as  lihe  moat 
eslraordinary  piece  of  marble  scolptnre  I  had  seen. 
.  Tbe  Baptistry  stands  apart  from  theduomo*or  cathedral,  aa  does  tha 
dampanile  or  bell  tower  from  both ;  all  are  sq[Mirated  from  snitouiii- 
log  buildings,  and  occupy,  quite  solitarily,  a  large  open  space.  Thetea- 
thedral  is  the  dedication  made  from  the  spoils  obtained,  by  a  suoocaBfid 
piratiGal  expedition  of  Piaana,  against  Palermo  in  Sicily  while  in  pea- 
aBBsion  of  the  Saracens  in  10((3.  It  is  a  splendid  edifice,  conmating  of 
a  nave  with  two  aisles  on  each  side— transepts  and  choir.  "  Its  bases, 
04>ital8,  comicea,  and  other  parts  are  firagments  of  antiquity,  collected 
Snxm  different  places,  and  skillfully  brought  together.  The  plan  of  the 
building  is  that  of  a  latin  cross-— length  811  feet,  Vidth  of  nave  and 
fimr  aiales  106  feet  6  inches — centre  nave  41^feet^wide.  Ihe  nave  has 
twenty-fbur  columns  of  the  Corinthian  order,'/welve  on  each  8ide,.dl 
of  taarble  24  feet  10  inches  in  height,  and  2  feet  3  inches  in  .^amettfv 
eacb  shaft  being  a  single  block.  The  entire  height  indnding  ea]^tal  aifti 
baae  80  feet  10  inches.  Arches  spring  from  the  capitals  of  these  od- 
ainna  and  sustain  another  order  of  oolttmns,"8maller  and  mere  nnmaa* 
ons,  and  johnng  an  upper  gallery  appropriated  formerly  to  ^maka. 
Tbe  ttaaaepts  have  both  a  nave  and  two  side  aisles  with  iadalad  (Osl- 
«mna.  Die  .general  ioSeet  of  the  interior  is  very  fina  Altailiale 
la^iers  of  red  and  white  marble  conopoee  the  walls.  ThB  dooia  are 
«f  faronae^— the  oentre  doors  contain  the  history  of  the  Vii^tn,  framnblr 
hinh  to  hidr  glorifieatioaf  in  dght.oomp8rtiDenjls,.and  therightiandki^ 
aaeh  jn  mx  parts,  that  of  the  Savior. 

Hier^  ia  a  double  row  of  aisles  on  either  side  of  the  nave  mi^uAndl 
Iha  traaMfMB.  The  hcigfat  of  the  peineipal  awre;i8  imm^f*am  fast  irf 
Ite  tamsept  eighty-four,  and  of  the  aisles  thirQ^ve  feet  3Boar  Ja^ 
Mhesy  supporting  an  eltiptioal  eupolA)  restupon  an  tequal  niiniihfi  jof 
liasa'itt  fdia  oantve  of  A»  vm^     A;ookasaliigw«,  in  noaaM^iOf  Aa 


0Hiun«L  Of  TBM  >UBmijwmm>, 


-«4p 


m'A  J^MofA  «&d  Mary  on  «illMr  •idft,  Bdenis^tbft  oeniivof f|fe» 
TttcMng.    They  are  i!K)re  thim  8M>  y«aM  old. 

In  the  ehapel  of  the  Annumskto  tbeiltar  piMe  nqpTMiMrtai  ^Adm 
and  Eve,  and  the  aerpmit  iritii  a  ftmale^  head.  It  is  ^^oarared  oiMi 
dMAed  work  in  silver,  grven  bf  Coemo  IV.,  and  cost  acme  86^060 
<irowti8.  Silver  6guves  of  great  ^legane^  supporting  the  sfanoeseom'  to* 
^se  from  Ui0  altar.  The  ki^  aiiar  k  <a  faeavj  pUe  of  rich  and  el Ao- 
Mto  marble  and  lapis  ktiili.  Behind  th»  ailtar  is  a  very  beootiM 
pteture  of  Abraham  sacdfidng  Isaac,  said  to  have  been  earned  awsy  ibf 
Napoleon  bnt  i^eartored.  Two  oolmnns  of  porphjnrjr,  whose  osphalsiaro 
tastefully  adorned,  staiid  oppoaite  toeaoh  otiier ;  and  two  fiilted  mL^ 
ttHMLs,  near  -Ae  Ingh  altar,  are  said  to  have  belonged  to  a  tempte  (Or 
pataee  built  by  Hadrian,  which  oo(»ipied  the  site  of  the  prssant 
eathedral.  The  stalls  of  the  choir  are  wood  work  elaborately  wroogha* 
A  large  broni^e  lamp  suspended  In  the  nav«^  it  is  aaid,  suggeatod  Mot 
Galileo  the  theory  of  the  pendnlum. 

This  building  contains  many  paintinga,  soiue  of  whiob  are  said  aa 
possess  great  merit.  I  oouid  take  no  interest  in  examining  tfaos^  of 
legendery  hi8t()rie8,btft  occasionally  ,pieUiros  of  8aint8,bei])g&ie  portraits 
pakitings,  would  attract  attention.  That  of  St  Agnes,  is  beautifiil,  and 
Hioee  of  St  Thomas,  St  John,  Bt.  Francis  are  of  fine  eieot  A  Ma* 
donna,  the  oliject  of  Roman  Catholic  adotutlon,  is  kept  under  lock^anB 
esn  only  be  seen  by  special  pennlasioa.  It  is  a  Greek  pabstiiig,  4ti 
known  to  hsve  been  venerated  at  PSsa  early  in  the  thirteenth  eeolury, 
and  is  probably  as  old  as  the  earliest  diate  of  the  present  building. 
There  were  two  pieces  that  exdted  maoh  surprise,  not  without  «oim 
ft«Hng  of  horror,  m  view  of  the  impious  idoia^  of  which  th^  avs  ilia 
expoiydti^.  One  is  l^at  of  ai^ls,  with  *' the  holy  saeramanit  <)f  tiw 
altar,''  above,  and  doctors  of  tiie  church  below ;  the  other  that  of  the 
Trinity,  in  which  the  God  head  is  attempted  to  be  represented  by  the 
figures  of  an  old  gray-headed  man  for.  the  Father,  a  man  in  middle  life 
for  the  Son,  and  a  dove  for  the  Holy  Spirit.  I  felt  astonished  at  the 
impious  audacity  of  the  painter,  and  the  stupid  idolatry  of  the  admiring 
worshippers.  But  what  better,  thought  I,  is  to  be  expected  among  thote 
whose  teachers  have  expunged  from  their,  moral  code  the  seoond  com- 
mandment, and  who  are  thus  kept  ignorant  of  the&ot,  that  God  has  said 
'*  Tbou  shalt  not  make  unto  me— any  likeness  of  any  ihing  that  ia  in 
heaven  above.'* 

The  Campanile  or  tower  for  the  bells,  of  which  there  are  seven,  was 
begun  in  1 174.  It  overhangs,  fifteen  feet  at  the  base,  covering  ita  whole 
area. 

The  appearance  of  dds  ^  leaning  tower^  is  veirj  atriking,  and  afisoled 


asa  HOUB  OF  lOBIWN  TBiiVEi.. 

Hie  strangely,  as  I  first  approadied  it.  It  yery  soon  became  a  question 
witli  my  oompany,  whether  the  inclination  was  accidental  or  designed. 
Some  tiiought  the  latter,  alleging  the  different  thidcness  of  the  layers 
of  stone,  and  the  dlfferenoe  in  the  height  of  die  columns,  on  the  lower 
and  upper  sides  of  the  tower.  My  own  opinion  is,  that  the  subsidence 
of  the  foundation  took  place  during  the  erection  of  the  building ;  and 
that  after  it  had  become  apparent,  the  builders  raised  the  thickness  of 
Ae  layers  and'height  of  the  columns,  so  as  to  preserve  the  Tertical 
direction  as  &r  as  possible,  and  keep  the  centre  of  gravity  irom  &lling 
so  &r  from  the  centre  of  the  base  as  to  endanger  its  stability.  The 
layers  of  stone  in  the  walls  are  stroigthened  witii  iron  bars,  so  that  they 
cannot  slide,  as  though  it  was  designed  to  remedy  a  defect  that  had 
developed  itself  in  the  progress  of  the  building.  It  is  a  circumstance 
thoroughly  corroborating  this  view,  that  the  high  altar  in  the  cathedral, 
standing  dose  to  the  campanile  has  sunk  considerably  on  one  side,  thus 
showing,  that  the  nature  of  the  soil  su^ests  a  more  easy  solution'  of 
the  phenomenon,  than  the  design  of  the  architect 
^  The  tower  is  fifty  feet  in  diameter  and  178  feet  high.  The  ascent, 
though  accomplished  by  330  "^  easy  steps,*'  was  to  me  very  &tiguing. 
It  consists  of  eight  stories  of  columns,  in  each  of  which  are  semi-circu- 
lar arches  making  open  galleries  around  it  The  upper .  contains  a 
chime  of  seven  bells,  the  lai^est  of  which  weighs  12,000  pounds.  From 
its  summit  secured  by  double  rails,  the  upper  most  of  which  is  about 
five  feet,  you  can  see  the  Mediterranean,  Leghorn,  and  the  hUls  of 
Monte  Nero  near  it,  the  islands  of  Gorgona  and  Capraia,  the  hills  of 
Lucca  and  the  island  of  Corsica  in  dear  weather.  -  The  material  of 
wMch  it  is  built  is  limestone,  r  On  the  side  exposed  to  the  winds  from 
the  sea^  the  disintegration  of  the  columns  6se.,  is  dowly  taking  place. 


LANP  OF  THB  PTRAMIDa  353 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


BY  WARREK  ISHAM. 


CHAPTER  XXXVm. 

A  Spectacle  in  (he  Fields — the  Camd—fhe  Horsey  etc. 

t 

We  have  again  emerged  firom  the  dismal  mountwin  gorge  into 
the  delightful  valley  of  the  Nile,  and,  as  our  dismantled  crafi  has 
floated  with  the  current,  passing  Edfou,  and  Esne,  and  Eleitheros,  and 
Hermonthis,  and  Thebes,  I  have  been  like  a  bird  out  a  cage,  and  hied 
myself  through  the  fields  and  villages,  rejoicing  in  my  enlargements 

To  day,  as  I  was  rambling  in  the  fields,  I  witnessed  a  spectacle  of  no 
little  interest  to  me.  Before  me  was  a  camel,  on  all>fours,  rocking 
itself  from  side'  to  side,  standing  for  a  moment  on  the  two  legs  upon 
one  side,  with  the  two  upon  the  other  raised  from  the  ground,  and  then 
poising  itself  over  upon  the  other  rade,  the  two  legs  on  which  it  stood 
being  in  turn  lifted  from  the  ground,  and  thus  it  rooked  itself  back  and 
forth,  its  eyes  being  closed  apparently  in  sleep.  That  is  the  way  the 
•camel  takes  its  rest ;  it  never  lies  down,  and  the  only  rest  its  jaded 
limbs  ever  get,  is  thus  taken,  unless  it  be  when  it  crouches  to  receive 
Its  burden  and  its  meals,  an  operation  which  seems  to  be  painful,  and 
<»ly  submitted  to  as  a  matter  of  necessity. ' 

The  camel  is  a  wonderful  animal,  alike  in  structure,  in  oharactery 
and  in  habits.  Wonderful  indeed  is  he  in  structure,  being  in  appear- 
ance the  weakest  and  frailest  of  all  animals,  having  neither  chest,  nor 
haunches,  nor  loins,  nor  any  thing  else,  in  &ct,  which  is  supposed  to 
constitute  strength  in  the  animal  organization,  and  yet,  his  strength  is 
anijaKing,  and  his  power  of  endurance  almost  incredible.  I  was 
speaking  of  these  apparently  conflicting  characteristics  io  the  constitu- 
\xQ^VL  of  the  camel  to  an  English  gentleman  in  Cairo,  when  he  repliedi 
that  to  reconcile  them,  1  bad  only  to  consider  that  the  camel's  back 
was  in  the  form  of  an  arch,  a  circumstance  which  he  thought  fully, 
accounted  for  his  wonderful  strength.  But  this  explanation  did  not 
relieve  my  mind  from  its  perplexity,  for  what,  replied  I,  does  an  arch 
avail  which  has  nothing  to  support  it]  Besides,  the  ezist^ce  of  the 
arch  is  more  a  matter  of  imaginadon  than  redity,  as  I  judge  firom 

somo  skeletons  of  the  camel  I  have  seen. 
VOL.  I,  NO.  vm. — 22. 


S54  uosfiy  w  ras  TTBLAxnm. 

No  animal  has  a  comelier  oountenanoe,  or  one  ibUer  of  benlgiunit 
expreosion,  and  yet  none  is  more  vicious,  in  fiiet,  or  more  hldeom 
looking. 

The  capacity  of  this  animal  to  bear  burdens,  exceeds  what  I  should 
have  deemed  credible,  previously  to  having  seen  it  tested.  To  see  it 
walking  off  with  two  sticks  of  timber,  lashed  and  balanced  upon  each 
side,  apparently  eight  or  nine  inches  square,  and  jfrom  thirty  to  forty 
feet  in  length,  was  a  spectacle,  the  credibility  of  whidi,  I  should 
certainly  have  called  in  question,  if  witnessed  to  by  any  other  eyes 
than  my  own.  Admit  the  timber  to  have  been  dry,  and  of  the 
lighter  kind  of  wood,  as  I  suppose  it  was,  and  still  you  are  left  without 
a  key  to  the  mystery.  Such  a  spectacle,  however,  I  have  oftai  seen 
in  Egypt,  and  I  have  looked  at  the  animals,  in  contrast  with  th^  loodte, 
with  amazement  They  are,  of  course,  loaded  heavier  for  a  short  dis- 
tance, than  for  a  long  one,  and  th^i  they  must  either  take  two  sdcks^ 
the  one  to  balance  the  other,  or  none  at  all,  both  being  balABoed 
kngliiwise  upon  the  padt-saddle.  lliere  is  an  instanee  of  a  oaaael 
briefing  twdve  hundred  wel{^t  of  iron  eighty  miks  tldtmgh  ll» 
4eB«rt  (from  Sues  to  Oadro),  but  ordinarily,  in  long  josnieys  ikrouf^ 
tike  desert,  they  carry  but  half  that  bvvdoi. 

And  they  will  go,  and  go,  and  go,  under  their  enormous  bordw^ 
year  after  year,  untiil  they  drop  down  dead  in  their  trades.  When 
onee  one  gives  way,  he  is  never  expected  to  reoover,  and  no  means  an 
taken  to  restorie  him,  his  load  is  pUed  upon  the  remahiing  camels  of 
Ae  csxiftvan,  winch  hold  on  thear  way,  leaving  it  to  die  in  the  desert,  an 
event  whidl  does  not  generally  occur  untQ  after  a  great  number  of 
years  of  service.  If  l<MMied  beyond  their  strength,  however,  they  ase 
not  backward  in  making  it  known,  by  crying  out  most  pitoouriy. 

Tito  camel  seems  to  be  a  creature  of  providence,  formed  out  of  lli# 
evffinary  course  of  nature,  and  adapted  in  its  organizaticm  to  the  eoi- 
gencies  of  the  desert,  a  portion  of  the.  earth  as  wonderfol  as  ifMKl 
Ita  foot  is  simply  a  pad,  which  spreads  itself  upon  the  sand,  without 
sldung  mudi  into  it,  while  it  yields  to  a  rocky  or  flinty  surfiuse,  wkh* 
out  wearing  into  the  quick,  or  imparing  its  elasticity,  lliis  ai^mal 
has  long  been  known  to  have  a  reservoir  within,  from  whi<^  it  drawa 
refrediing  supplies  of  water  amid  the  parched  desert,  and  It  is  now 
supposed,  wi^  very  good  reason,  to  have  a  like  reoeptade  in  wMch  i^ 
stow  food  for  similar  emerg^cies. 

And  its  senmbiMes  and  instincts  seem  to  be  equally  wondefftd,  and 
equally  adapted  to  its  exigencies.  When  its  internal  supply  of  irafer 
Is  edausted,  and  botii  man  and  beast  have  been  ready  to  perlA  from 
thirst,  and  smk  witii  fatigue,  he  has  been  known  suddenly  to  ndse  hl» 


MAlMl  OS*  i^HB  CA^Mifc  394 


4iNMfpiag  hsady  eritibii  great  ^zhiloslioii  of  iplrits,  bredt  swaj  from 
his  maator,  and  run,  at  fiill  apeed,  and  vith  unerring  predion,  to  a 
apring  a  little  distance  o£F. 

ha  teetli  eettmed  formed  to  crop  and  mastieate  the  hard,  priekly 
ahruba  of  tiie  desert ;  shrabs  which  no  other  atiimal  can  either  crop, 
BMurtdoate;  swallow,  or  digest.  And  it  hbs  the  power,  also,  of  so  oon- 
traoting  its  nostrils  as  to  exclude  l&e  flying  sands  of  the  desert,  with 
which  the  air  is  often  darkened. 

Nor  do  its  capacity  of  bearing  burdens,  and  its  power  of  endurance, 
alone  constitute  its  value.  Tlie  milk  of  the  female  camd  is  the  main 
depend^ce  of  many  an  Arab  family  for  food ;  its  offal,  formed  into 
flat  cakes,  and  dried  in  the  sun,  flimishes  their  diief  supply  of  fuel, 
while  the  soot  arising  from  its  combustion,  is  formed,  by  mblimatiott, 
into  Sal-ammoniac,  which  was  formerly  extensively  exported  into 

And  when  the  pckrr  creature  is  dead,  he  ceases  not  to  be  usefhl  ticv 
msB.  if  he  ia  butchered,  his  flesh  is  esteemed  qnite  a  ddicaey  for  the- 
ti^ie,  and  his  hide  makes  the  best  of  leather,  while  his  hair  is  wronghi 
into  doih,  wdments  o^  camels  hair  being  worn  l<»g  before  the  days  ef 
J(te  the  Baptiflft ;  and  what  woukil  the  ar^t  do  without  cameTs  hair 
pencils? 

The  yomig  camd  is  v^y  beinlMil,  its  little  h«np  detracting  nolUng' 
from  the  graoeflilneBS  of  itsfotvn ;  but  it  grows  ugly  as  it  grows  older; 
ewerj  month  whisk  passes  orer  its  hfliad^  robs  it  Of  its  prettiness,  sad 
increasea  its  deformity,  until,  at  Ml  age,  a  monstrosity  in  the  animal 
oraatisa  is  fully  developed. 

The  dromedary  reaemblea  the  camel  in  genensl  appearance,  but,  in 
many  respects,  it  is  a  very  difierent  animal.  It  is  much  lighter  made, 
smaller,  and  much  more  swift  of  foot,  traveling  sometimes  a  hundred 
miles  a  day,  for  several  days  in  succession,  without  iq^porent  injury, 
while  twenty-eight  or  thirty  miles  are  a  day's  journey  for  a  camel. 

Upon  other  domestic  animals  whicb  I  meet  with  in  tlis  fields,  I  will 
bestow  a  passing  notice.        ^ 

That  beautiful  animal,  the  horse,  is  to  be  met  with,  I  believe,  in  all 
tha  countries  <^  the  earth,  being  a  universal  fovorite  of  man.  He  is 
to  be  seen  here  in  greater  perfhc^on  than  in  most  ether  countries, 
beiifg  of  tlie  Arab  bkwdi  .  There  ai«  but  fbw,  howwe^,  in  E^t, 
notie  but.  Ite  wealthy  being  able  to  ke^  them.  Sonie  of  tb^  speei^ 
mens  I  have  met  with,  were  very  beautiful,  sneb  as  I  have  not  seen 
eomeUed  elsewhere,  cMier  in  form  or  acUon. 

The  Ai«b  hotaa  is  remarkable  for  mtelligifcnce,  and  he  readiy  leams 
akvcst  ai^Aing  wMeh  is  taiuj^  him,    It  is  this  which  maksshim  such 


356  LAND  OF  THB  FYRAMU^ 

9 

_^_^__i _  ■__  '  MllL-llMIII  ■^■JM 

a  pet  with  his  master,  who  careases  him  aa  a  companio&y  shares  wiiii 
him  the  fortunes  of  life,  and  when  he  dies,  mounis  £>r  him  aa  for  hia 
first  bom. 

From  the  pictorial  representations  of  the  horse  in  the  tombs,  1 
should  think,  they  must  have  had  a  noble  race  here  in  ancient  times. 
Indeed,  it  is  manifest,  that  the  breeding  of  horses  for  export,  constitii- 
ted  quite  a  branch  of  husbandry  in  those  days.  Solomon  appears  to 
have  procured  horses  from  Egypt  for  his  numerous  cavalry.  2nd 
Chron.,  chap.  9. 

The  donkey,  the  mule,  and  the  camel,  do  the  drudgery  in  Egypt, 

which  the  horse  does  in  some  other  countries.     In  the  lai^e  towns, 

there  seems  to  be  nothing  but  donkeys,  donkeys,  donkeys.     There  are 

.said  to  be  fifty  thousand  of  them  in  Cairo  alone.     They  are  the  poor 

man's  dependence. 

Oxen  are  in  common  use,  worked  single  in  the  towns,  and  double 
in  the  fields,  joined,  or  rather  separated  by  a  yoke  twelve  feet  long. 
They  have  a  small,  short  horn  breed  here,  some  of  which  have  well 
turned  forms.  Buffaloes  are  extensively  bred  and  used,  both  for  work 
B^  milk.  There  are  but  few  sheep,  and  those  coarse  wooled  and 
shabby.  Goats  abound,  and  are  valued  for  milk.  Of  dogs  I  have 
said  enough. 

Here  ends  the  list  of  the  domestic  animals  of  Egypt.  If  there  be 
others,  they  have  not  come  within  the  range  of  my  observation. 

But  we  are  at  Kenneh,  located  near  the  site  of  the  ancient  Goptos, 
the  terminating  point  on  the  Nile  of  the  ancient  Red  Sea  route  to 
Berenice,  of  which  I  have  spoken.  It  is  about  thirty  miles  below 
ll^ebea,  and  some  two  hundred  from  the  Cataract. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

The  TempUof  Denderah^  its  wonderftd  state  of  preservation^  beauty  and  finiahr- 
hart  ihe  Stpoys  of  India  ftU  down  and  worshipped, — Denon^s  J^stake^'^B^hC' 
Uona. 
Directly  opposite  Kenneh,  (thirty  miles  below  Thebes)  and  two 

miles  from  the  river  on  the  west  bank,  stands  the  &mou8  temple  oi 
Denderah,  (generally  admitted  to  be  the  ancient  Tentyra)  to  wMdi  I 
fiuled  not  to  pay  my  respects.  There  are  different  opinioDs  as  to  the 
^ooh  of  the  construction  of  this  temple^  some  identifying  it  with  that 
of  the  older  structures  of  Egypt.  And  there  seemis  to  be  nothing  to 
indicate  a  later  datCi  either  in  its  inscriptiona  or  its  architectorei  whiob 
are  thoroughly  Egyptian — nothing,  except  the  wonderful  state  of  pra*- 


WONDERFUL  PRESERVATION.  asf 

I         ■■.■■  II  .,-111         .   .         — I  .  I  *  I ,     — ^ 

ervBtioti  in  which  it  is  (bund,  and  perhaps  the  higher  finish  with  which 
it  is  beautified.  The  Ptolemies,  however,  the  immediate  successors 
of  Alexander,  patronized  the  religion  of  the  conntry,  and  built  tem- 
ples to  its  gods,  and  it  is  supposed,  with  considerable  plausibility,  that 
the  building  of  this  edifice  dates  no  &rther  back  than  the  era  of  theb 
power,  not  far  from  two  thousand  years. 

But  this  detracts  nothing  from  the  interest  which  attaches  to  it ; 
nay,  a  spell  was  shed  down  upon  me  from  this  temple,  whi(^  I  had 
not  felt  elsewhere  in  Egypt,  not  even  among  the  more  gigantic  re- 
mains of  Thebes.  Here  was  a  temple,  of  no  mean  dimensions,  (265  feet 
by  140  upon  the  ground)  not  only  showing  a  perfection  of  art  in  its 
construction  and  finish,  which  fitly  makes  it  the  last  in  a  long  line  of 
architectural  wonders,  commencing  with  the  pyramids,  but  exhibiting 
a  spectacle  nowhere  else  to  be  seen  in  Egypt,  that  of  a  perfect  whole, 
standing  up  in  all  its  beauty  and  perfection,  unscathed  by  the  hand  of 
time,  and  showing  no  oth^r  marks  of  age,  than  serve  to  render  it  more 
venerable  and  imposing — a  spectacle  which  one  sighs  in  vain  to  be- 
hold amid  the  magnificent  ruins  to  be  found  in  other  parts  of  the 
country. 

The  interior  entry  is  made  through  a  portico,  sustained  by  mas- 
sive columns,  and  elaborated  in  every  part,  with  sculptured  represen- 
tations of  the  mysteries  of  religion,  and  hyeroglyphs  of  the  highest 
finish.  And  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  entire  interior  and  exterior 
of  the  edifice,  walls,  columns,  capitals,  architraves,  frieze  and  cornice, 
ail  being  covered  with  sculpture  of  the  same  high  order,  and  present 
ing  a  spectacle  of  great  beiauty. 

The  first  department  is  spacious,  and  adorned  with  eighteen  lai^e 
columns,  ornamented  at  the  top  with  opening  lotus  buds,  whose  stems 
ran  partly  down  the  shaft,  giving  it  the  appearance  of  having  been 
scolloped.  Proceeding  on,  another  large  department  is  ent^ed,  and 
beyond  it  a  third,  in  which  last  the  sanctuary,  (in  which  idols  were 
kept,  and  oracles  uttered)  and  which  is  a  temple  of  itself,  is  located. 
Ranged  upon  each  side  is  a  succession  of  small  rooms,  from  one  of 
which  a  flight  of  steps  mounts  to  the  roof,  upon  which  several  apart- 
ments are  located,  ornamented  like  those  below.  Some  glymmering 
light  is  Admitted  through  holes  cut  in  the  sides  obliquely  down,'tliough 
in  the  sanctuary  utter  darkness  reigns. 

Upon  the  ceiling  of  this  temple,  as  upon  that  of  the  one  at  Esneh^ 
were  discovered,  what  has  been  called  a  planisphere,  consisting  of  fig 
nres,  hyeroglyphs,  and  groups  of  stars,  supposed  to  represent  the 
lodiaa    This  the  French  detached  and  transportied  to  Paris,  as  a 


K68  hA^B  QF  l^K  PTIUMUIS. 

-I        "        I        "  ■  ■  -r--     I r-j  -  •       I  -       ■     -T    -      •   '     j~  "      ~         '    •         ^^"^""X 

^Moe  troaattre.    It  W  ne^irly  oertam,  however,  tba(|  irkateyer  Biej 
^ye  been  its  uofMiift  a»d  deeigii,  ik  does  sot  represent  tlie  9Qdiiie» 

It  was  in  tJiis  temple  that  the  Sepoys  of  India,  brougM  hithw  hj 
Ganerai  Hatchinsmi,  to  aid  in  repelling  t^  Frenoh  at  the  beginiung 
of  Ike  present  eentury,  fell  down  and  worshipped,  reeogniring  their 
own  deities  in  the  gods  and  goddesses  of  the  Egyptians  as  here  por- 
trayed. Nor  is  this  the  only  evidence  we  have  of  a  striking  similar- 
ity between  the  idol  worship  of  ancient  ,;Egypt  and  modem  India,  all 
t^veUera  representing  the  temples  of  the  latter  as  bearing  a  very 
strong  resemblance  to  those  of  the  former,  ai^  equally  strong  resemr 
blances  in  certain  rites  and  ceremonies  practised  by  each  respeotiyeLy, 
h^ve  been  remarked.  Both  would  seem  to  have  had  the  same  ori^n, 
perhaps  upon  tne  middle  ground,  first  peopled,  whence  nugradons 
took  place  to  the  East  and  to  the  West. 

It  would  be  of  little  use  to  sketch  the  symbolic  representations 
widi  which  this  temple  is  covered  in  every  part,  inside  and  out,  con- 
sisting of  gods  and  goddesses,  priests  and  worshipers,  among  wkidi 
.  are  dog  and  hawk-headed  human  figures,  men  in  the  act  of  being 
slaughtered  by  brother  men,  and  wild  beasts,  &c.,  &c., '  besides  the 
many  volumes  of  hyeroglyphs  which  everywhere  meet  the  eye. 

No  part  of  the  edifice  appeared  more  beautifiil  to  me  than  t^e  wf- 
liioe,  which  conusts  in  the  flaring  gracefiilly  over  of  the  top  of  the 
wall,  forming  a  rim  of  beauty  all  around,  separated  frbm  the  areliir 
trave  by  a  moulding,  and  running  down  the  corners  of  the  building. 
This  is  the  true  Egyptian  style,  and  combines  a  high  degree  of  sim- 
plicity, chasteness  and  elegance. 

There  is  another  small  temple  near,  which  is  adorned  in  a  similar 
manner,  and  then  there  are  three  propylonsor  gateways,  one  of  wluch 
rose  upon  the  view  a  considerable  distance  across  the  plain,  as  we  ap- 
proacbMl — a  noble  structure,  between  forty  and  fifty  feet  high,  and 
beautifully  adorned.  The  great  temple  itself  is  in  a  hollow,  and  the 
first  glimpse  of  it  is  obtained  at  the  propylon  just  mentioned.  So 
suddenly  does  it  open  upon  the  view  in  passing  around  the  aodivity, 
rifiing  at  once  in  all  its  original  perfection,  as  fiurly  to  bewilder  die 
beholder  with  its  beauty  and  grandeur. 

The  sacred  edifices,  except  the  propylon  last  mentioned,  were  en- 
closed by  a  wall  thirty-five  feet  high,  and  fifteen  feet  thick,  the  re- 
puons  of  which  can  be  distinctly  traced,  around  an  area,  say  sixty  rods 
square.  The  brick  of  which  this  wall  is  composed,  i^pear  to  have 
been  sixteen  inches  in  length,  eight  in  width,  and  four  in  tUokness^ 
ipaking  them  nearfy  eight  times  the  sise  of  the  common  brick  of  modem 


DKEfOITS  HTFRBBaUS.  •  K»9 


r 

tunes.    Projections  in  the  wall  seem  to  indicate  sites  for  towers  which 
rose  from  it  at  regular  distances. 

He  site  of  ancient  Tentyra  is  elevated  some  fifteen  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  valley,  and  is  all  strown  over  with  fragments  of  pottery 
imd  brick. 

Denon,  one  of  the  French  Savans.  who  accompanied  the  army  of 
Napoleon,  on  the  Egyptian  expedition,  seems  to  have  been  put  into 
raptures  here.  ^  What  unceasing  power,"  he  exclaims,  ^  what  riches, 
what  abundance,  what  superfhiity  of  means,  must  a  government  poe* 
0888,  which  could  erect  such  an  edifice,  and  find  artists  within  itself  to 
eonoeive  and  execute  such  designs !  Never  did  the  labor  of  malt 
show  me  the  human  race  in  so  splendid  a  point  of  view.'^ 

Had  he  exclaimed  instead,  "  What  unceasing  oppression,  what  ex- 
tortionary governmental  exaction,  what  poverty,  what  d^adation, 
what  enslavement  of  the  masses,  are  indicated  by  such  a  memorial  as 
this  1  Never  before  did  I  see  the  human  race  in  such  an  abject  point 
^f  view.''  Had  his  astonishment  taken  this  turn,  it' would  have  seemed 
more  in  harmony  with  the  dictates  of  common  sense,  and  more  conso- 
nant with  the  sentiments  of  a  progressive  humanity. 

The  thought  occurred  to  me,  that  if  even  this  edifice,  seen  in  such  a 
state  of  preservation,  is  an  object  of  so  much  wonder,  what  a  ffpectade 
must  Kamac  and  Luxor  have  presented,  in  an  equal  state  of  preser- 
vation, the  former  being  fourteen  times  as  large  upon  the  ground,  and 
every  way  magnificent  in  proportion,  to  say  nothing  of  its  surroimd-  ^ 
)ngs,  which  were  spread  out  pver  an  area  three  miles  in  circumference, 
and  on  a  still  more  magnificent  scale!  The  mind  staggers  under  thA 
conception. 

The  question  also  arose.  Why  is  it,  that  pagan  idolaters  bestow 
their  treasures  so  much  more  freely*  upon  their  religion,  such  as  it  is, 
than  the  Christian  does  upon  his,  such  as  he  believes  it  to  be  ?  At 
first  view  the  comparison  seems  derogatory  to  the  Christian  faith,  bnl 
a  more  philosophical  view  will  show  the  matter  in  quite  another  light 
The  truth  is,  the  poor  benighted  pagan  makes  an  offering  of  his  treaa* 
vre  as  a  propitiation^  and  never  entertains  a  thought  beyond  this, 
whereas  the  Christian  has  no  such  end  to  accomplish,  that  having  beea 
iK»omplished  "  once  for  all !"  What  he  bestows  goes  mainly  to  ex- 
tend the  benefits  of  the  great  propitiatory  sacrifice  to  others.  In  the 
one  case,  the  principle  of  selfishness,  in  its  rankest  form,  comes  into 
action,  and  in  the  other,  that  of  benevolence,  and  if  the  former  oper* 
ates  more  powerfiiUy  than  the  latter,  it  only  shows  that  it  has  a  more 
powerful  hold  upon  the  human  heart. 


saO  LAKD'  OF  THB  PTEAMIDa 

^■  —  ■iimM m       ,  i.«  I  ^■-   —    ■  i-  ■■■  ii  i»  i»-^^^m^^^i^— — i— ^i^^^^»^P»^«^— ^^— ^i^^M^^^^^i^W^^^ 

CHAPTER  XL. 

Kimndi,8tortmff^poMqfihePSiffrim  (ktrmMmt-^Awmud  POgHmaffes  from  ^lu 
and  from  Cairo, — Veacr^iumofikan. 

We  are  at  Kenneh — ^situated  near  the  site  of  the  ancient  Gaptoi^ 
thirty  miles  below  Thebes.  This  place,  of  a  few  thousand  inhabitaatSi 
ahares  with  Esneh  the  benefits  of  the  caravan  trade  from  the  regploft 
of  the  upper  Nile ;  and,  as  I  have  said,  is  famous  for  the  manufiustoie 
of  pottery,  for  which  extraordinary  water-cooling  and  perfume^ 
imparting  properties  are  claimed.  Of  the  stacks  of  this  fragile  article,, 
piled  upon  the  Nile,  constituting  both  boat  and  cargo,  and  drfting  in 
safety,  hundreds  of  miles,  to  their  destination,  I  have  also  spoken. 

Kenneh  is  the  starting-point,  upod  the  Nile,  of  the  modem  caravan 
route  across  the  desert  to  Cosseir,  on  the  Red  Sea,  directly  opposite, 
— as  Coptos  was  of  the  ancient  one  to  Berenice,  which  is  located  a 
hundred  and  fifly  or  more  miles  further  down  the  coast.  As  the  Nile 
takes  a  sweep  eiistward  at  this  point,  the  distance  directly  across  is 
only  about  eighty  miles — ^not  more  than  half  what  it  is  two  d^eee^ 
above  or  below. 

This  route  is  traveled  by  the  great  annual  pilgrim  caravan  cf 
Middle  and  Upper  Egypt,  on  its  way  to  the  tomb  of  the  Prophet ; 
while  that  of  Lower  Egypt  traverses  the  desert  from  Cairo  to  Suei, 
and  then  down  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Red  Sea, — reaching  its  destin^ 
ation  after  a  journey  of  five  or  six  weeks — having  passed  over  seven 
or  eight  hundred  mile^  of  burning  sands,  mostly  by  night,  the  intense 
heat  rendering  it  almost  impossible  to  travel  by  day.  Spmetimes  a 
portion  of  the  caravan  take  ship  at  Suez,  and  pass  down  the  Red  Sea. 

Nothing  enters  more  devoutly  into  the  calculations  of  this  people, 
than  the  performance — at  least  once  in  their  lives — of  a  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca ;  and  no  event  creates  a  profounder  sensation  than  the  annual 
departure  and  return  of  the  great  pilgrim  caravan.  The  four  great 
cardinal  duties  to  which  the  true  Moslem  consecrates  himself  aie 
prayer,  alms-giving,  fasting,  and  a  pilgrimage  to  the  tomb  of  th». 
Prophet — the  last  being  esteemed  by  no  means  the  least. 

The  place  of  rendezvous,  for  forming  the  caravan  for  Lower  Egypty 
is  "pilgrim's  pool,"  about  twelve,  miles  from  Cairo  on  the  way  to 
Suez, — supposed  to  be  the  Succoth  of  the  Scriptures,  so  named  as  the 
first  encampment-ground  of  the  Israelites,  upon  taking  up  their  line  of 
march  for  the  wilderness.  At  Kenneh,  it  is  a  short  distance  from  the 
town. 

Hither  the  devout  followers  of  the  Arch-impostor  come  pouring  in 
from  all  quarters,  clad  only  in  a  single  coarse  garment,  without  seam^ 


THE  GBBAT  FILaBIU  CARAVAN.  861 

is  thrown  oyer  them  (the  shaved  hesd  and  the  feet  being  left 
bare),  until  thousaiMki  have  collected,  widi  their  camielf,  tenta  and 
proTinons.  Several  persons  are  swnng  across  a  single  oamel-*-sa; 
two  upon  each  side  of  the  pack-saddle,  with  their  heads  projecting 
from  boxes  or  sacks,  who  bfdance  each  other  (as  do  the  ocmtents  of  a 
bag,  divided  into  e^ual  portion  at  each  end) — aad  one  upon  the  top. 
About  fifteen  miles  is  a  nights'  journey — ^the  day  being  devoted  to 
religious  duties,  to  their  meals,  and  to  sleep,  beneath  the  shelter  of 
Aeir  tents.  And  thus  they  go  from  stage  to  stage,  groping  their  way 
over  the  desert  in  the  dark, — fit  emblem  of  the  spiritual  desert  of 
Mohammedanism,  and  the  darkness  in  which  it  is  enveloped.  They 
are  often  attacked,  and  many  of  them  killed,  by  robber  bands  in  the 
mountain  defiles. 

The  caravans  proceed  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  beyond  Mecca,  to 
Mount  Ara&t,  where  certain  ntes  are  performed,  and  then  return  to  a 
valley  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mecca,  where  a  ram  is  sacrificed  by 
each  devotee,  in  commemoration  of  the  deliverance  of  Ishmael, — ^it 
being  their  belief  that  it  was  Ishmael,  and  not  Isaac,  whom  Abraham 
was  about  to  slay  at  the  command  of  God.  The  fact  of  Mohammed's 
being  a  descendant  of  Ishmael,  doubtless  led  him  to  the  adoption,  of 
this  version  of  the  affair. 

Having  gone  through  these  and  numerous  other  ceremonies;  such' 
as  stoning  the  devil,  &c.,  the  usual  dress  is  .resumed,  and  hence- 
forth each  one  takes  the  name  of  pilgrim — ^regarding  himself^  and 
being  regarded,  as  one  highly  &vored  of  Heaven, — ^having  crossed  the 
Desert  and  wept  over  the  tomb  of  the  Prophet 

But  it  is  upon  the  return  of  the  caravan,  that  the  intensest  feeling  is 
excited  and  the  most  moving  scenes  'enacted.  Its  long  absence  of 
three  months  or  more,  and  the  general  fact  that  always  large  numbers, 
being  poorly  provided  for  so  long  a  joiim^y,  are  left  to  die  under  their 
privations  and  sufferings  in  the  midst  of  the  desert,  induce  their  anx- 
ious friends  to  advance  a  day  or  two's  journey  into  the  desert  to  meet 
them,  accompanied  by  the  sound  of  the  drum  and  tamborine,  to  ex: 
|»ress  their  joy.  and  their  congratulations. 

But  when,  instead  of  meeting  their  friends,  large  numbers  are  told 
of  their  having  been  left  to  perish  by  the  way,  to  be  devoured  by  the 
vulture,  the  hyena  or  the  jackal,  their  joy  is  turned  into  mourning, 
and  the  wailings  of  the  bereaved,  mingling  with  the  bursts  of  joy  and 
the  deafening  beat  of  the  drum,  from  others  who  meet  with  returning 
friends,  create  a  scene  of  rapture  and  anguish  combined,  winch  has  no 
parallel,  perhaps,  in  the  annals  of  earth. 

Messengers  are  sent  some  days  in  adviance  of  the  caravan,  to  herald 


HS  LAKB  OF  TBS  FntAJODfi. 


hitsppPOB^  and  ddiTev  Utteni  from  thoM  hrfonging  to  it  to  ttMir 
tAmidB.  Of  tlwae  iMn^da,  the  ohief  aiyeote  pr^testa  from  fthwe  wiM> 
il«  liim  made  glad  by  the  message  he  Mags,  and  be  inqpeolif 
)melyes  iMiadsoaae  gratiiitieB.  As  lie  goes  aloag,  he  oiasouliy  ^Bka»> 
itigoA  the  pro^Mt!"  when  all  within  the  hearing  of  his  Yoioe  raspond, 
HOGod&yor  him!" 

On  the  amval  of  the  pilgrims,  they  are  beset  widi  mnlt^ute 
|H^snng  around  for  a  blessing,  each  one  begging  for  a  diort  prayer  in 
his  behalf,  belieying  in  the  certain  efficacy  of  the  intercemon  of  a 
retaming  pilgrim,  according  to  the  saying  of  the  Prophet-^'^God 
pardoneth  the  pilgrim  and  all  for  whom  the  pilgrim  implores  mjocy*." 

In  his  absence,  the  house  of  the  pilgrim  has  been  decorated  with 
paintings,  in  a  most  ibntastic  slyle ;  and,  upon  his  arrival,  he  giTss  a 
ibast,  and,  after  a  few  dayft,  another^-^when  he  resumes  his  usual 
occupation ;  but  he  is  ever  after  deemed  worthy  of  spedal  defarsnoe^ 
in  tl^  sacred  character  of  pilgrim.  The  next  day  after  the  arrival  oi 
the  caravan  of  Lower  Egypt,  a  great  pageant  was  exUbited  in  tha 
streets  <^  Gairo.  A  litter,  covered  ^  with  black  doth,  splendidly  onuu 
mented  with  gold  embroidery  and  a  border  of  silk  fringe,  with  tsaseh 
ftom  which  silVer  balls  were  suspended,  was  seen  moving  throng  the 
streets  upon  the  back  of  a  camel.  The  thing  was  entirely  empty,  but 
had  two  gilt-bound  copies  of  the  Koran  attached  to  the  outside,  in  full 
view  of  the  populace.  The  animal  upon  whose  back  this  spectacle  is 
bome,  I  was  told,  would  be  exempted  from  further  service  for  life. 

As  it  passes  along,  way  is  made  for  it  through  immense  roisoes  of 
men,  women  and  children,  who  gaze  in  solemn  silence  upon  it  as  a 
sort  of  religious  mystery,  ^t  is  simply  a  sort  of  contribution  from 
the  Pasha,  as  an  atonement  for  his  dereliction  of  duty  in  not  joining 
the  caravan — ^it  being  formerly  customary  for  the  Viceroy  to  accom* 
pany  it,  bome  in  a  litter  of  somewhat  similar  construction. 

It  is  generally  conceded,  I  believe,  that  the  Mohammedans  are  not 
{delators,  and  that  they  believe  in  one  only  living  and  true  God,— • 
repudiating  alike  graven  images  and  pictorial  representations.  And 
yet,  if  they  do  not  absolutely  pay  divine  honors  to  the  founder  g£  their 
religion,  there  is  certainly  so  near  an  approximation  to  it  as  to  baffle 
all  attempts  to  distinguish  the  diffier^ce. 

To  visit  and  weep  over  his  tomb,  is  deemed  one  of  the  most  sacred 
dttttes  of  their  religion ;  five  times  a  day,  they  turn  their  &oes  to 
Misooa,  and  make  solemn  pledges  of  devotion,  and  never  do  they  per- 
fbrm  a  religious  act  without  thus  invoking  the  blessing  of  the  Prophet; 
and,  when  the  hour  of  dissolution  arrives  and  the  spirit  is  about  to 
lake  its  flight^  they  are  turned  in  their  beds,  to  enable  them  to  look 


t0^$Ki  ike  mcT^A  mif  wken  nfote  ths  ariws  ^  thtfar  Pyofhol,  ■■ 
Iteugh  Arr«  were  their  truil  and  their  eoofitkoee.  If  thut  be  Mt 
mnmhip,  outright  and  dlrecty  it  is  diffieuU  to eonoriye  whet  is  'the 
fundamental  artide  of  tiie  Moelem  creed,  that  ^^there  ki  but  one  CM, 
and  Mohammed  ie  hie  ProphBt^"  to  the  contnff  j  ootwithatandDog. 
Not  here,  for  the  first  time,  do  creed  and  practice  veiiiae  to  cealepee. 

niere  ie  no  end  to  tiie  calender  of^iohammedan  eeanfen,  to  wtioee 
aAee  pilgrimages  are  made.  There  is  one,  to  whose  tomb  at  TMitaii^ 
ae  I  have  elsewhere  remarked,  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pi^rimsy 
firom  erery  part  of  Egypt,  ftom  AraUa,  Nubia  and  otiier  oouatriee  of 
Ae  Upper  Nile,  congregate  every  six.  months,  .as  regnlarly  as  the 
years  come  round,  as  an  act  of  pious  oonsecrataon. 

But  to  none  are  euch  honors  paid  as  to  the  Prophet— -ham  they  ssms 
to  worehip  as  a  sort  of  tnftrior  god,  he  being  dependant  upon  the 
Sspreme  God  for  favor,  as  they  are  upon  him.  With  the  invocationa, 
^  Blessing  on  die  Prophet "  and  ''  O  God  &vor  him,''  (m  tMr  lips, 
they  still  render  to  him  acto  of  homage  which  are  due  to  God  alone. 


CHAFifBR  XLI. 

Bum0  qf  AJbydoSy—'Thit  CkUbraJUd  Parchment  BoU^ — Mysttries  of  Egyptian  Myero- 
gJyphicSj  ihe  Key  to  ihem  discovered  in  the  faTrunu  Rosetta  storu. 

Some  seventy  or  eighty  miles  below  lliebee,  and  three  or  four  ttcfm 
A»  river  on  the  west  side,  repose,  amid  encroaching  sands,  the  cele- 
brated ruins  of  Abydos,  the  modern  Arabat.  Tliitber  I  had  purposed 
to  direct  my  steps,  but,  as  it  was  extremely  doubtful  whether  any 
trace  of  the  ruins  remained  to  mark  the  spot,  loitered  my  purpose, 
and  we  floated  on.  A  few  years  ago,  the  remains  of  two  magnificent 
temples  were  to  be  seen  here,  one  of  which,  three  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  by  one  hundred  and  fifty  upon  the  ground,  was  almost  entire, 
though  so  chocked  with  sand  and  rubbish  as  well  ni^h  to  forbid  ex- 
ploration. When  last  visited,  it  had  nearly  disappei^red,  and  the 
probability  is,  that  by  this  time  it  is  entombed.  This  edifice  is  sup- 
posed by  Strabo  and  others,  to  have  been  the  real  palace  of  Memnon, 
(Amenoph)  who  is  computed  to  have  reigned  8500  years  ago.  And 
yet,  but  recently,  the  paintings  in  some  of  the  apartments,  are  said  to 
have  been  as  fresh  and  vivid,  as  though  executed  but  yesterday. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  secret  apartments  of  this  temple  that  a  tablet 
was  discovered  in  1818,  which,  upon  examination,  was  found  to  eesh^ 
tain  a  long  Hat  of  tiie  kings  of  Egypt,  the  immediate  predeeossois  of 


MA    .  LAJTD  OF  THE  FTBAHIDa 

■ — ^ » 

SeBostris,  wboee  reign  )datos  bade  some  8100  years.  Bj  the  aid  of 
tkiB  docttment,  ChampoUion  has  fixed,  with  a  tolerable  degree  of  oer* 
tainty,  the  date  at  whidi  sereral  dynasties  of  JBgyptian  kings  mml 
hftTe  oooupied  the  throne. 

As  I  have  taken  some  pains  to  fitmiliarize  myself  widi  the  prooees 
of  QiampoUion  and  others  in  decyphering  these  mysterious  sjrmhols, 
(to  a  limited  extent)  I  will  hSte  make  an  efiort  to  explain  it  for  Ae 
special  edification  of  those  whose  oiriosity  has  been  awakened  on  like 
subject. 

The  hieroglyphic  is  the  simplest  form  of  writtoi  language,  and  it  is 
in  use  in  all  countries  to  this  day,  as  the  rudimental  language  of  ehil* 
dfen.  What  but  hieroglyphic  symbols  are  the  pictures  of,  animals 
in  the  child's  primer  *?  By  these  symbolic  representations,  lining  in- 
fiincy  is  enabled  to  receive  and  communicate  its  tiny  ideas,  long  Be- 
fore it  can  avail  itself  of  the  language  of  sound.  And  it  is  the  same 
with  infiuit  nations.  When  Cortez  arrived  upon  the  shores  of  the  new 
world,  his  advent  was  announced  by  the  natives  who  were  present  to 
their  friends  in  the  interior,  by  rude  pictures  of  the  ships,  and  of  the 
arms  and  dress  of  the  Spaniards.  Soipe  specimens  of  these  rough 
pictorials,  as  afterwards  found  among  them,  have  been  preserved. 

The  next  sjiage  in  the  march  of  discovery  was  to  abbreviate  by  sub- 
stituting a  fiiinter  likeness  of  the  object,  or  of  some  portion  of  it, 
which  would  be  suggestive  of  the  object  itself,  and  at  the  same  time 
occupy  less  space,  as  a  curved  line  for  a  ship,  &c.  And  from  this  the 
transition  to  arbitrary  signs,  as  the  mark  Y  to  signify  a  horse  was  easy 
and  natural.  At  this  stage  the  language  of  China  remains  to  this  day, 
oodsisting  of  arbitrary  characters,  representing  not  sounds  but  sub- 
jects or  ideas.  It  had  always  been  taken  for  granted  that  the  monu- 
mental language  of  the  ancient  Egyptians  stopped  far  short  of  this,  if 
indeed  it  had  advanced  beyond  pictorial  representations,  until  the  fiKSt 
was  disclosed  by  Champollion  and  his  coadjutors,  that  it  not  only  came 
up  to  this  point  of  improvement,  but  went  &r  beyond  it,  even  to  the 
use  of  an  alphabet,  by  which  they  were  enabled,  equally,  with  the 
modems,  to  place  upon  imperishable  record  ideas  the  most  abstract, 
by  means  of  signs  which  represent  human  articulation.  Hie  plo- 
tures,  wluo|i  were  supposed  simply  to  represent  objects,  the  likenen 
of  which  they  bore,  have  been  ascertained  to  represent,  in  many  cases, 
the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  or  sound,  the  initial  letter  in  tiie  name  of 
the  animal  or  object,  portrayed,  being  the  letter  for  which  it  stands. 

Thus,  according  to  this  system,  in  the  stage  of  development  then 
reached,  any  word  might  be. spelled  alphabetically  by  an  array  of  as 
Biany  images  as  it  contained  letters,  each  imjAg^  representing  tiie  ini- 


HTiaEtOaL7?I0Bl->THIS  KST.  965 


letter  <^  its  name.    For  instanoe,  tiie  pietures  of  a  deer,  an  eagle, 
a  tiger,  a  rabbit,  aa  oar,  an  iofaneumoo,  and  a  tiger  again,  ranged  in 
tfaw  order,  would  iqxm  this  prineiple,  spell  the  word    Dbtroit,  in 
our  language,  these  being  the  initial  letters  of  liie  respective  names  of 
llieae  olijects* 

And  in  spelling  a  name,  images  of  animals  or  objeoits,  wiiose  quaU- 
Ines  would  be  su^esdye  of  praise  or  blame,  or  of  some  particular  fea- 
ture of  diaracter  which  it  was  desired  to  bring  out,  seem  to  have  been 
selected,  as,  of  a  lion  to  express  nobleness  of  character,  of  a  hyena  to 
express  ferodtj,  of  a  lamb  to  express  gentleness,  &o.  By  pains*tak-» 
mg  in  the  selection  of  images,  a  maa's  name  might  thus  be  spelled  in 
the  highest  starain  of  panegyric  on  the  one  hand;  or  of  keen,  withering 
salare,  on  the  other.  In  spelling  the  name  of  Ptolemy,  the  image  of 
a  lion  is  used-  to  denote  the  letter  L,  Liabo  being  the  Coptic  name  of 
that  animal. 

.  This  was  strictly  an  alphabet,  though  a  very  clumsy,  cumbersome^ 
and  inconvenient  one,  compared  with  the  arbitrary  signs  now  in  use, 
and  though  it  has  been  shown  to  have  been  in  use  1300  years  before 
the  Christian  era,  there  is  no  evidence  that  any  attempt  was  made  in  all 
that  time  to  improve  it  by  the  substitution  of  less  cumbersome  char- 
aofeeis. 

But  though  previous  to  this  discovery,  the  monumental  inscriptions 
of  the  country  seemed  to  furnish  no  indication  of  the  use  of  an  alpha, 
bet  by  tha  ancient  Egyptians,  it  has  long  been  known  that  the  people 
of  Greece  admowledged  their  indebtedness  to  Egypt  for  a  knowledge 
of  alphabetitcdiaraetero,  and  so  memcsibble  in  tbttr  annals  was  the  ad- 
Vent  of  Cadmus,  the  Phoenician,  who  brou^t  to  them  aeroas  the 
KediteTranean,  16  letters  of  the  alphabet,  that  they  publicly  celebrated 
the  event  hundreds  of  years  afberwards. 

The  use  of  hyeroglyphic  symbols  to  denote  objects,  however,^  was 
Qot  superceded  by  the  invention  of  an  alphabet.  Pictures  still  con- 
tinued to  be  used  as  before,  to  symbolize  objects,  as  well  as  to  repre- 
seiil;  letters,  or  sounds,  and  the  two  methods  seem  to  be  blended  in 
the  monumental  inscriptions  of  the  country  generally.  Tins  refto^ 
taooe  to  give  up  the  original,  uncouth  method  of  monumeatal  record, 
seems  analagous  to  the  veneration  which  certain  i^igionista  of  our 
day,  entertain  for  the  language  in  which  their  creed  was  originally  em- 
bodied, deemii^  it  a  pro£ination  to  use  any  other  in  religious  services, 
though  long  since  obsolete  as  the  language  of  the  people. 

The  key  to  this  discovery  was  furnished  by  the  &mou8  Bosettastone, 
a  blaok  baMtt  tablet,  whidi  was  exhumed  by  the  French  about  the  begin- 
ning of  the  ptesent  oentury ,  in  exoavatiiig  the  fciindationa  of  a  f<wt  at  Bo> 


9m  IdUmorTKBPT&AMBR 

^■^■^ ■  .  -       ■  -  ^     ^  ^^.^  .    ^    -  .         ^ 

Mtt%  Dfiftr  the  wQttleRi  aaoutli  of  tke  NOe^  «id  «nirtiieli  waw fannd 
iaiG^p4iiQD0  in  three  diffiareiU  cfaacaefean  or  Iftngiugei,  yk :  the  Graek^ 
hyereg^jFpUo  ttd  liiereti<v  or  oomlooii  lnngtMign  of  theoosntiy.  Am 
liieM  ittfciiptloiis  purported  to  be  diftreiit  TenaioiiB  of  the  asaie  da* 
cree,  all  that  was  necessary  to  decypher  the  hieroglyphio  eai  faievotie 
wtts  to  establiA  a  oorrespondence  between  the  images  or  charaeters 
employed  and  the  Greek,  the  latter  being  atready  understood.  The 
oUiteration  of  portions  of  all  the  inscriptions,  rendered  the  task  a  dii^ 
ficult  one,  but  the  repetition  of  the  name  of  Ptolemy,  in  ihe  Qmskf 
fad  a  corresponding  repetilion  of  oertun  hieroglyphic  images,  ideiiti' 
fied  the  names  as  common  to  bothinseriptioBB,  and,  so  flnr,  the  trinm^ 
wasaofaieTedi 

Hithiirto,  however,  little  more  has  been  aeeomplished,  than  to  apply 
the  priBK»ple  disoorered,  to  the  deoyphering  of  proper  names,  the 
names  of  most  of  the  long  line  of  kings  of  andent  Egypt  haraig  besft 
thus  satisfrctorily  made  out,  and  the  several  dynasttes  anaBged  in 
duronologieal  order.  The  history  and  ezfdotts  of  several  of  the  ldng9 
of  Egypt,  as  related  by  the  Greek  histpriansv  hanre  thus  been  resooad 
from  the  charge  of  fiAwlous  origin,  thmr  names  bemg  (iiUy  ykmMeii 
aad  the  aoUevements  ascribed  to  them  lendeied  hig^y  prohaUs^ 

But  though  this  is  about  all  whidi  has  yet  been  accomplished  In  «e» 
taaily  deoypherii^  htaroglyphiochaaraetere,  mnch  has  been  done  tstpk^ 
pare  the  way  for  a  more  general  interpretation.  By  comparing  tbe 
pi^eper  names  in  the  inscriptions  on  the  Rosetta  st(»e  and  other  M* 
Ini^tid  tablets  and  rolls,  a  oompl^  alphabet  has  been  fom^i,  aad 
wIhb  in  Paris  I  learned,  tAiat  a  fimt  of  hieroglyphio  typea  hid  just  l^eii 
oirt,  and  were  in  readitiess  fbr  striking  off  tte  mottumental  recordaof 
the  Pharaohs,  with  as  much  dea^tch  as  any  reeords  in  the  Efeig^iali 
language  can  be  multiplied  by  the  same  instrumentality. 

But,  in  order  to  completo  success,  a-  better  aoqualntance  with  the 
Ospftic^  or  original  language  of  the  country,  seems  to  be  necessary, 
nis  is  now  a  dead  language,  and  has  only  bera  preserved  from  utter 
esdiinetion^  by  the  snperstitious  veneration  of  the  few  Copts  in  tb€ 
eawatiy  for  itas  tihe  saered  language  of  th<ir  reKgton.  Theneoasl^ 
of  this  is  BunliMt  from  the  &ct,1hal  it  cnonotliie  kaK>wi»  what 
leblei^  whioh  an  image  repfesenta,withoat  kne^ng  the  naM»  of  the  «^h^^ 
tfaoa  reptesented,  in  the  origiiiai  langnage  of  the  eonntry.  IW  is* 
stands,  the  imageof  an  eagle  represents  the  letter  A,  beoaase  the  name 
of  that  bird  in  Cc^tio  is  Ahcnn.  But  to  HBdogniae  tite  namus  ef 
the  numherlest  ebysots  imaged  in  tbsse  poetures,  reqnirea  •  iill 
knowledge  of  the  laDgmge.  little  attentjony  however,  han  as  yet 
bete  giveit  to  the  snhfect  by  oriental  seholara,  md  of  OMane  but  amalt 


TUIUUHI  UP  B7  THK  8EADB.  HI 

■      "■■■  T 

vMMlte  hsvh  been  nadMd.  And  bendai^  tkere  will  be  aoma  einbiP* 
iMRtimt  experienoed  in  the  iw^  tibst  tfie  pure  Copftie  does  not  e:idit| 
die  pvieit  fern  of  it  being  advkeoESted,  to  bobm  extant,  with  that  of 
l^e  foreiga  oationa  who  ocniquered  the  eonntrj.  Still,  laige  reanlia 
siigkt  be  aatieipaited  in  theae  inrestigationa  from«i  Adl  knowledge  of 
it^aaitis. 

n^iat  rich  treaaurea  of  aneLenthMe  are  looked  upintheaemjateriooa 
aymbola,  we  haTe  every  reason  to  belteye.  ^'  The  wisdom  of  EgTpt " 
Was  proverbial  in  the  dajs  of  Moaes,  1650  jeaira  before  the  olfflatian 
cni)  and  in  Ihe  pabnj  dayaof  Greeoe,atfaoiiaaKid]rear8  afterwardsyhar 
rtpest  sehdbra  flocked  to  the  banks  of  the  Nile  to  complete  their  edn« 
cation  at  the  ^t  of  the  Egyptaan  philoaophera.  Hie  atatet  j  rflmaint 
ef  her  ancient  ediiicea,  her  pymmida,  her  templea,  her  obeliaka  aad 
atatoea,  have  stood,  for  thonsanda  of  jeara,  as  monnmenta  to  a 
al^  in  the  use  oi  mechanical  powers,  whidi  oonld  only  haive  originated 
in  a  profound  pUosophy. 

thb  ftmona  Alexandrian  library,  ec^eeted  by  the  first  Pt^laBBfi 
aemeihing  more  ihan  three  hnadred  yesora  before  the  diriatian  esm,  the 
ktfgestthe  world  everasw,  previona  to  the  invention  of  prinlteg,  wst 
H  pvMd  monument  to  tiie  learning  of  the  ancieot  i^gyplianB,  eoMriatiaf 
0imifm hmidred  thoosmd  velaaMa,  (in  papynM  rolla).  Itwaaao  ei^ 
tm^e^  the*,  altar  ^b»  deatmclMMi  of  more  Aan  kOf  of  H  by  J«U«a 
Ctaaar,  sodliie  pillaging  of  much  of  the  remands  by  ehnstiana^  thasa 
was  enough  left  to  fomiah  the  Saraoena  withAiel  to  beat  the  nttroaww 
katfia  of  Alexandria  for  six  mcntlis. 

Yat^  great  aawaathia  leas  to  the  worid,  we  hanrofeaaontopreaiunfl^ 
ftat  it  would  be,  ina  great  meaaora  restored,  were  the  preeesa  of  Ue^ 
TOgLyphic  discovery,  already  comaneneed,  pnahed  to  Ita  kgitfanate 
veauka,  and  the  great  teiBpte  of  knowledge,  pne-anppoaed  by  dieae 
tamplea  of  atone,  laid  open  to  the  worUk 

I  have  said)  that  the  key  to  these  loqg  Udden  seoreCa  was  furakhad 
by  the  Itoaetta  stone,  on  wfakh  aroyal  decree  was  ioseribed  in  three 
dUfarent  ^liaraetera,  viz :  Greek,  hi«rogIyphical  and  the  eoBuaon  kup 
goi^  of  the  country.  For  more  than  a  thonaand  years,  the  leaned 
and  the  studious  had  been  taaking  reaaon,  imaginati<m  and  fancy,  over 
theae  mysterious  symbols,  without  having  advanced  a  single  step 
toward  the  great  result  And  then  it  was,  when  the  learned  world 
had  de^Mured  of  ever  succeeding  in  the  attempt,  that  the  highway  of 
discovery  was  stumbled  upon  by  those  who  were  in  pursuit  of  quite ' 
anotfier  object^  and  who  were  as  indifierent  aa  the  donkey  or  the  mule 
to  an  event  which  put  the  whole  learned  world  into  raptures. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  motive  of  Napolecm  in  his  military 


S6d  LAKD  OF  THB  FTRAJOOa 

expedition  to  Egypt,  it  certainly  reflects  honor  upon  Us  memcrj,  ikaX 
he  selected  a  baiid  of  learned  men  to  accompany  it,  ccMisiatii^  of  aati> 
quarians,  architects,  surveyors,  naturaBstSy  and  draughtsmen,  whose 
business  it  was  to  explore,  and  make  sketches  of  the' wonderfid  re- 
mains of  the  country,  himself  taking  apparently  as  mudi  interest  in 
their  researches,  as  in  the  military  operations  of  his  army.  That  was 
a  noble  after*thought.  However  censurable  may  have  been  the  mili- 
tary ambition  of  Napoleon,  it  was  certainly  as  praise>wordiy,  as  it  was 
novel  in  the  annals  of  war,  to  follow  up  ibe  bloody  triumj^  of  the 
sword  with  the  peaceful  achievements  of  sci^ice.  As  the  result  of  these 
investigations,  we  have  the  great  French  work,  "Description  del 
figypt,"  published  at  the  expense  of  the  French  Government,  and  eze 
cuted  in  a  style  of  princely  magnificence ;  a  work  so  voluminous,  and 
highly  embellished,  as  to  be  accessible  only  to  the  wealthy. 

The  savans  of  Napoleon,  however,  though  they  created  a  new  Inter- 
est in  Egyptian  antiquities  throughout  Christendom,  did  not  attempt  to 
extend  their  researches  to  the  field  Of  hieroglyphic  <£seovery.  And 
yet  to  the  military  department  of  this  expedition  the  world  is  ind^>ted 
for  the  due  which  has  led  to  all  the  progress  which  has  since  been 
made  in  the  development  of  the  hieroglyphic  system.  As  though  in 
mockery  of  the  scienlafic  investigators  of  centuries,  tenninalaiig  with 
the  splendid  corps  of  Napoleon,  the  key  they  had  so  long  and  intentlj 
sought  was  struck  by  the  spade  of  an  ignorant  soldier  in  digging  the 
foundations  of  a  fort. 

The  triple  inscription  was  made  for  the  same  reason,  that  our  laws 
are  sometimes  published  in  Grerman  and  French  as  well  as  EnglpA^ 
the  inhabitants  of  Egypt  at  that  time  consisting  of  the  oooqaerii^ 
Greeks  and  the  conquered  Egyptians. 

He  Frendi  army  being  ousted  from  Egypt  by  the  British,  this  stone 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  latter,  who  transported  it  to  England,  and 
deposited  it  in  the  British  Museum.  Copies  of  the  inscriptions  were 
engraved,  and  staat  to  learned  men  throughout  Europe,  but  near  twenty 
years  elapsed  before  any  consid^^ble  progress  was  made  in  deoypher* 
tng  its  mysterious  characters. 


BOBWfiAK  RAMBT^W.  9fif 


JOURNAL  LEAVES   )F  A  EUROPEAN  RAMBLE. 


•T  O.  BBTBUKB  OII#V»U>. 


CHAPTER  n. 

On  Board  of  Stsam kr  ^*  Asia/'  July  4th,  1855* 
Descending  the  stairway  to  the  lower  cabin,  a  choking  sensation 
grappled  us  about  the  throat,  as  of  a  want  of  suffident  air,  and  on 
reaching  our  state-room,  so  very  dose  was  its  atmosphere,  that  I 
regarded  myself  doomed  to  a  night  of  seasickness.  So,  repudiating 
the  berth,  I  cast  myself,  clothes  and  all,  upon  the  lounge  which 
extended  along  one  side  of  the  apartment,  ready  for  a  rush  after 
the  fresh  air  of  the  main  deck  at  a  moment's  warning.  The  light 
which  illuminated  the  state-room,  was  lodged  in  some  mysteriously 
inaccessible  manner  behind  a  panel  in  one  corner,  and  shone  through 
a  piece  of  ground-glass,  about  a  foot  square,  with  a  dull  yet  suffident 
*ray  for  all  practical  purposes. 

W ,  whose  quarters  were  with  me,  stowed  away  his  two  bladt 

bags  of  Government  dispatches  (for  he  enjoyed  the  distinction  of  a 
bearer  of  dispatches  to  the  Court  of  St.  James)  under  the  lower  berth, 

and  turned  in ;  while  poor  J ,  whose  mind  was  still  busy  with 

distracting  regrets,  burrowed  off  into  the  darkness  to  quarters  on  the 
"same  floor,  equally  comfortable,  but  further  toward  the  stern  than  ours. 
The  yarious  passengers,  one  after  another,  tottered  with  uncertain  step 
to  their  respective  rooms,  and  soon  nothing  was  heard  below  but  an  oo- 
casional  snore,  or  a  restless  sigh  from  some  poor  afflicted  one,  whose 
pillow  the  God  of  Sleep  as  yet  declined  to  visit.  Presently  I 
was  lost  in  sleep,  as  sound  as  though  the  eternal  rocks  were  my  bed 
and  the  everlasting  hills  their  foundation.  Some  time  after,  however, 
•—but  how  long  was  uncertain — ^I  awoke  to  oonsdousness  and  utter 
darkness.  Where  was  11  In  what  sort  of  a  bed  ?  What  was  that 
heavy  thunder  which  sensibly  diffused  itself  through  my  lodging- 
place?  What  that  wild  rilsh  of  tumultuous  waters  along  its  outer 
walls  ? 

Just  then  old  Jack's  giant  whistle  screamed  out  overhead,  and 
I  remembered  that  I  was  a  wanderer  amid  the  fogs  of  the  Ocean, 
and  that,  through  these  thick  and  dark  hours  of  the  night,  that  was  the 
sounding  herald  of  our  approach  to  all  who  sailed  upon  our  trade. 
Ship-masters  running  near  us  would  catch  the'  note  of  warning,  and 

look  out  through  the  misty  cloud  of  fog  for  the  black  hull  of  our 
YOU  I,  HO.  vra. — 23, 


ma  BOMMur  ft&mLiik. 


approaohing  vessel  But  what  cared  the  mighty  craft  of  the  Arotio 
Sea — ^the  icj  monster  floating  at  his  ease  toward  Tropical  clime»— 
what  cared  he  for  the  puny  scream  of  our  trembling  ship,  as  she 
timidly  crept  through  the  midnight  fog?  Hehad  jost  broken  forth 
from  ^t  terrible  prison-home  of  snow  and  ice  at  the  fiur  North,  aad, 
laughing  in  his  freedom  and  in  the  greatness  of  his  strength,  was  press* 
ing  sublimely  forward  on  his  way,  defying  all  opposition,  and  crushing 
beneath  his  icy  foot  the  fruil.  bark  that,  in  the  darkness,  might  unexpect- 
edly Ml  upon  his  pitiless  breast,  sha^y  with  icicles  and  clouded  with 
dfit^  Ocefm^s  waves,  as  they  dash  around  his  base,  are  to  him  up 
more  than  is  to  old  Mt  Blanc  the  crushing  avalanche  that  thundexas 
down  his  wrinkled  &ce.  He  rides  forth  in  his  miajest^  aooording  to 
I  his  own  free  will,  and  woe  to  the  rash  navigator  who  refuses  to  halt 
m  his  path  and  wait  submissively  until  the  King  of  the  North  has 
passed  by !  Doubtless  some  of  these  silent  monsters  of  the  de^, 
these  fearful  destroyers  of  those  who  ''  go  down  to  the  sea  in  shipa,'* 
w«re  then  on  their  silent  way  to  the  South,  and  our  vessel  must  crooB 
(heir  path.  The  season  in  which  they  journey,  floating  slowly  in  this 
polar  current,  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  an  hour,  is  between  April  and  Sep- 
tember.  They  are  never  seen  in  the  winter,  and  seldom  after  Augusts 
But  we  were  in  time  for  them,  and  it  is  no  pleasant  thought,  as  one 
lies  in  his  state-room,  far  down  in  the  bowels  of  the  Steanier,  to  &nq[f 
that,  through  darkness  and  fog,  his  vessel  may  be  steering  directly  on 
to  one  of  thdr  icy  walls,  and  any  moment  may  fill  his  ears  with  the 
crash  of  a  collision,  and  his  state-room  with  the  tumbling  billows  of 
the  sea. 

Thus  ruminating  while  awake,  and  dre£^ming  out  the  reality  in 
sleep,  the  night  wore  along,  until  at  last  the  first  ray  of  momiii\g 
streamed  through  the  little  buirs-eye  window  that  lighted  our  state- 
room, and  assured  us  that  the  mantle  of  night  was  now  lifted  from 
the  sea.  At  seven  o'clock,  the  Steward's  bell  sounded  along  the 
passages,  and  having  .done  what  we  could  in  the  way  of  a  wash,  w;e 
climbed  up  to  the  promenade  deck.  The  fog  wasvsUll  very  densp, 
.  and  the  officers  were,  by  reason  of  it,  engaged  in  taking  soundingp, 
.  thus  endeavoring  to  fix  our  locality.  The  manner  in  which  this  was 
done,  so  fiur  as  I  observed,  was  as  follows :  To  the  end  of  a  stout  luie 
wa6  attached  a  ecmical  piece  of  lead,  surmounted  by  a  small  but  some- 
what complicated  arrai^emeat  of  brass  machinery,  in  which  revolvcyd 
a  wheel  resembling  the  screw-paddle  of  a  Western  propeUer,  and  m 
grificei  at  the  base  of  the  lead  was  filled  with  soft  lard.  One  of  ^ 
subordiaata  officers,  taking  lus  place  in  a  boat  suspended  outside  t)Mi 
larboard  bulwarks,  «ist  off  this  lead  into  (he  sea*    The  vessel's  hqp4- 


TAKIKa  BOU^mSQ»,^Va  SHIFS  DAIET.  StI 

imj  WM  oheoked,  the  lead  touched  the  Ocean's  bed  (in  thia  in9t|aioe, 
^  n  depth  of  400  feet)  and  in  a  few  seconds  was  hauled  upon  the  deck. 
Imbedded  in  the  lard  at  ita  base  w^e  various  firagments  of  shells,  bj 
irfaioh  the  Oaptain,  after  a  minute  examination,  seemed  to  comprehend 
irhere  he  was  floating.  As  the  old  sailor  was  stowing  away  the  lead, 
I  picked  out  one  or  more  pieces  of  these  shells,  brought  up  so  sud* 
duilj  from  the  pathway  of  some  Mermaid  village  below  the  Bay  of 
Fundy,  and  hid  them  away  in  my  pocket-book.  They  were  very  soft 
and  limy,  apparently  musde-shells,  of  a  light  yellow  and  white  color, 
and  disposed  to  crumble  away  between  the  fingers  on  very  slight 
pressure. 

Walking  after  break&st  along  the  main  deck  a  little  forward  of  mid* 
aiups,  near  the  Butchers  room,  1  espied  a  very  handsome  Durham  cow 
who  stood  in  a  little  band-box  of  a  stable  with  her  head  thrust  out  of  the 
window  and  looking  quite  disposed  to  babble  of  green  fields.  She  sufte? • 
ed  the  passengers  to  scratch  her  sable  face  or  rub  her  crumpled  horn,  and 
seemed  pleased  with  the  attention.  A  short  trough  filled  with  braa 
was  before  her,  abundance  of  hay  beneath  her  feet,  and  a  neat  little  rick 
ef  it  over  her  head.  A  soft  carpet  cushioned  the  sides  and  ends  of  her 
stable  or  state-room,  so  as  to  protect  her  from  bruises  in  rough  weath« 
er,  and  all  proper  precautions  were  made  use  of  to  ensure  her  such  rea- 
sonable share  of  comfort  as  a  four  footed  beast  is  fairly  entitled  to 
when  out  at  sea,  and  required  to  supply  250  passengers  with  milk  and 
cveam !  This  she  does  right  well,  pouring  these  unmistakeable  fluidv 
every  morning  into  our  coffee,  and  yielding  according  to  the  Butcher's 
account)  upwards  of  fourteen  quarts  a  day.  Right  respectftil  are  we 
therdore  to  old  Sukey,  and  thoughs  he  has  already  made  five  voyages, 
w  ten  trips  across  the  Atlantic,  she  has  the  good  wishes  of  all  the  pas- 
psngers  and  their  invocations  if  not  their  prayers,  that  she  may  live 
long  enough  to  make  ar  score  or  two  more  of  trips,  and  never  run  dry. 
Of  this  latter  calamity,  however  there  is  not  much  fear,  especially  if 
^e  weather  chances  to  be  rough,  as  we  had  aluiadant  opportunity  to 
observe'before  we  had  been  out  many  days.  Poor  old  Sukey  I  if  her 
nvilk  was  not  a  little  salty  during  three  or  four  days  of  her  voyage,  it 
was  not  because  she  wa^  put  upon  any  short  allowance  of  salt  water, 
<»  permitted  the  range  of  green  pastures.  But  she  bore  her  trials 
laeekly,  and  with  as  much  equanimity  as  if  she  had  been  a  Intimate 
'^eseendant  of  that  Royal  bull  who  once  in  the  olden  time  so  gallantly 
bore  thelfair  Europa  through  the  sea,  safely  landing  her  upon  the 
aborts,  of  Oete,  and  afterwards  baptiziog  a  large  portion  of  the  Coati* 
Plant  with  her  name. 
'    For  the  first  time  in  ii\y  life  1  have  heard  the  boatswain's  whistle^ 


\ 


873  EUROPEAN  RAMBLES. 


and  very  pleasant  are  the  twittering  notes  it  perpetuallj  emits.  II 
first  trilled  out  below  me  from  the  main  deck,  and  my  eye  searched 
through  its  various  passages,  in  the  expectation  of  discovering  some 
pet  mocking  bird  first  venturing  on  his  morning  song,  for  so  it  soundedT 
at  first;  afterwards  growing  softer  and  sweeter  like  the  strains  of  a 
little  bird  of  modest  plumage  who  was  wont  to  sing  out  of  the  mapleV 
shade  near  my  window  at  home.  I  cannot  otherwise  describe  its  sim* 
pie  carolling  call,  so  chaste  and  pure  is  it  to  the  ear.  Indeed  there 
was  almost  a  fascination  about  it,  so  much  so,  that  I  could  not  refrain 
from  ^sking  the  boatswain  for  a  peep  at  this  gentle  flute,  which  sends 
the  clambering  sailors  in  all  directions  over  the  decks,  amid  the  sails^ 
and  especially  to  grog,  which  latter  call,  it  seems,  they  acquire  more 
readily  than  any  other.  The  pipe  itself  is  a  delicate  silver  tube  with 
a  slight  curve  in  it,  thp  diameter  not  larger  than  that  of  a  goose  quill^ 
and  is  laid  upon  a  silver  flange  shaped  like  the  runner  of  a  boy's  sled. 
This  tube  terminates  in  a  little  silver  barrel  placed  at  right  angles  to 
it,  on  either  end  of  which  was  stamped  an  anchor.  The  jolly  owner  of 
it  exhibited  the  instrument  with  some  pride,  stating  that  it  was  of  the 
same  sort  used  in  the  British  navy,  and  was  presented  to  him  many 
years  ago  by  his  Commander  while  he  was  in  the  service.  To  him  it 
doubtless  was  as  valuable  as  a  decoration  of  the  garter,  or  a  ribb<Hi 
from  the  hands  of  the  Emperor.  But  the  cheer  of  his  piping  cry 
seemed  ever  in  our  ears ;  it  shod  its  show^er  of  song  through  every 
hour  of  the  day,  and  its  piercing  call  penetrated  and  seemed  to  streak 
with  silver  threads  of  music  the  blackest  blasts  of  the  night  When 
the  voice  of  man  was  hushed  by  the  tempest,  its  shrill  summeos  was 
heard  in  the  shrouds,  or  far  down  in  the  forecastle,  and  its  subjects  ran 
with  alacrity  to  do  its  bidding.  Like  "  the  still  small  voice"  of  con- 
science  when  man  buffets  with  temptation,  its  protest  strikes  through 
all  exterior  circumstaucc  and  writes  its  demand  upon  the  very  fl^k 
of  the  heart — so  that  there  is  no  escape  from  its  appeal. 

The  striking  of  the^Us  at  regular  intervals  was  another  incident  of 
Steamer  life,  inviting  investigation,  and  induced  a  search  after  the  prin- 
ciple or  plan  on  which  the  watches  of  the  crew  were  regulated.  At 
sea,  as  our  friend  th^  boatswain  informed  us,  the  day  is  divided  into  six 
watches  of  four  hours  each.  One  half  of  the  crew  are  on  deck  through 
each  watch,  and  the  rest  of  the  time,  they  have  to  themselves,  except 
when  extra  labor  or  heavy  weather  pipes  all  hands  to  duty.  The  day  of 
the  sailor,  unlike  that  of  the  landsman,  begins  at  noon,  or  as  Aey  style 
it  in  their  paralance  at  "  eight  bells."  At  each  half  hour  aft»r  that,  tht 
bell  is  struck  by  the  man  at  the  wheel  in  the  stem  of  the  vessel,  and 
responded  to  by  the  lookout  on  the  bell  forward ;  at  the  close  of  the 


BHrra  BBLL8^— HAHmS  lNSTIirC18  OF  ENGIJSHKBN.       8tt 

flnthalfhour,  oneblow  isgiyeii,  two  for  the  second,  three  for  the 
third,  and  ao  on  until  eight  bells  are  struck  when  the  watch  is  changed, 
4nd  the  striking  begins  de  novo.  It  sounded  pleasantly  to  hear  the  time 
spoken  of  as  **  four  bells"  or  ^  six  bells,"  and  made  us  realize  we  were 
already  amid  the  classics  of  the  sailors,  and  would  soon  perhaps  be 
«ble  to  converse  with  them  in  their  own  peculiar  dialect  And  as  the 
hours  were  tolled  off  through  the  rough  and  weary  night,  one  was  r^ 
minded  of  those  lines  of  Tennyson  as  he  mournfully  sings  in  memory 
«f  his  ship-wrecked  friend, 

"  I  taMT  th«  nolM  About  Uiy  keel, 

I  bear  tbe  bcU  etnick  in  tiie  nlgbl ; 
T  see  tbe  cabin  window  bright 
I  M«  the  MUor  ftt  the  wheel**— 

Apropos  of  sailor  parlance,  I  cannot  but  notice  how  perfectly  con* 
▼ersant  all  our  English  travelers  on  board  appear  to  be  with  every 
thing  pertaining-  to  a  ship  and  to  navigation  generally.  Reared  as  they 
are  on  an  Island  which  communicates  with  all  the  world  and  only  by 
boat,  they  seem  by  intuition  to  become  sailors  and  like  the  old  Pheni* 
dans  in  the  Mediteranean,  to  command  all  seas  and  control  all  harbors. 
If  the  Commerce  of  a  country  mainly  depends  upon  its  geographical 
position  in  reference  to  other  Nations,  its  means  of  internal  and  exter* 
nal  communication,  the  state  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  .the  sound 
character  of  its  laws,  then  does  England  possesses  in  an  eminent 
degree  the  chief  requisites  to  a  mighty  commerce.  The  British 
people  love  the  sea  and  seem  almost  bom  with  web  feet,  so  readily 
do  they  run  to  its  waters.  Even  their  Queen  prides  herself  on 
her  sailor  traits,  and  manages  to  spend  out  of  the  public  purse  every 
year  in  her  own  pleasure  yachts  about  £100,000 — which  the  poor  peo« 
pie  are  compelled  to  liquidate  in  addition  to  the  £389,000  allowed  her 
by  the  Government  as  an  annual  income.  But  the  popular  notion 
among  her  sons  seems  to  be  that  the  sea  is  especially  subject  to  the  do- 
minion of  Britian,  as  one  of  her  lyric  poets  has  nobly  sung  to, 

"  The  mariners  of  Engl&nd 

Tliat  gaard  oar  natlTe  seat 

'  Wboae  flag  Uae  brsTcd  a  thoaMiid  jeara 

Tbe  battle  and  the  brecse — 
e       e       e       e       •       0 

Britannia  needi  no  bnlwarfca 

No  towers  along  the  steep ; 
Her  inarch  Is  on  the  mountain  ware 

Her  home  is  on  tbe  deep— 
A  *  With  thunders  from  her  natiye  oak, 

She  quells  the  floods  below, 
Am  Uiey  roar  on  the  shore 

When  the  stormy  winds  do  blow ; 
When  the  battle  rages  loud  and  long, 

And  the  etormy  winda  do  Mow." 


9U  '  imROPBAN  HAMBLri^ 


Yet  great  and  potent  as  is  this  people  upon  the  deep,  diere  exists  al^ 
other^people,  sprung  from  their  own  loins,  amid  Western  seas,  wboM 
(bgs  are  &st  rivaling  her  own  for  multitude,  and  whose  humble  gum 
have  already  caused  the  proud  pennant  of  Britain  to  trail  upon  tlitf 
wave.  Great  and  happj  land  of  the  West !  How  full  of  pride  are  all 
her  sons  in  die  remeinbranbe  of  her  virtue  and  her  power.  Yea  ! 
diough  they  stand  beneath  a  thousand  foreign  flags  outspread  at  <mes 
oier  their  heads,  yet  will  '*  the  stars  and  stripes^^  though  absent  fh>iit 
the  cloud  of  banners,  still  be  present  to  the  eye,  and  for  beauty  and 
spirit-stirring  thought  outshine  them  all. 

W whose  taste  for  machinery  and  navigation  generally,  keeps 

lum  on  a  continual  tour  of  investigation,  reported  to  us  that  passengers 
were  permitted  to  go  below  and  examine  the  maohinery,  and  invited 
m  to  acDOmpany  him  tbitheir.  1  was  glad  to  go,  having  already,  looked 
fior  down  into  those  vasty  depths  where  the  engine  works  with  irod 
anns,  and  where  in  a  still  lower  deep,  moved  black  faced,  brawny  m«ii^ 
among  flaming  fires  raging  at  our  vessels  heart.  As  I  sat  reading  tUtf 
moniing  on  tiiat  part  of  the  deck  which  covers  the  engine,  a  sooty  fig^ 
Ure  suddenly  eikiei^ed  firom  a  round  hole  at  my  feet,  Ibroogh  wkieb 
the  stores  of  ooal  were  tumbled  to  the  fires  below.  He  was  dressed 
In  a  blue  cotton  shirt,  and  from  his  fiioe,  all  soot  and  smoke,  fell  greal 
drops  of  sweat.  Indeed  he  looked  as  one  who  had  just  esoaped  finom 
iht  torments  of  Tartarus,  and  was  now  eagerly  inhaling  the  pure  air  of 
sarthly  regions.  From  his  sooty  button  hole  hung  s  delicate  hatf> 
blown  rose  bud,  pinned  Uiere  with  a  blessing  perhaps  by  the  gentte 
hand  of  a  dau^ter  at  the  moment  of  farewell,  and  before  his  suparior 
officer  had  ordered  him  to  the  shades  below.  Or  if  Uiis  son  of  V«l» 
ssn  had  planted  it  there  with  liis  own  hand,  it  revealed  in  that  oodU 
marked  brother  of  those  who  walked  the  deck  above  his  head,  av 
dslieate  an  i4>preciation  and  perhaps  as  cultivated  a  taste  for  Nature  9m 
sharacteriasdaay  of  our  oushioBed  cabin  passengers.  Yes,  that  flowsr 
amid  the  coal  dustof  that  sweat-stained  bosom  was  more  worthy  of  admi- 
ration, than  any  of  the  brilliant  nosegays  that  yesterday  were  twirled 
about  the  promenade  deck  by  our  lady  passengers  ;*  forben  eath  that 
blackened  soil  there  lay  imbedded  the  seeds  of  a  thousand  virtues  wfaidi 
doubtless  cheered  and  blessed  a  fl^mily  of  loved  ones  in  some  vin&<^lad 
oottage  home.,  or  at  least  diffused  bright  rays  of  cordial  feeling,  in  the 

dark  hold  below.  And  so  we  went  down  amid  the  machinerv,  and  be- 
held there  two  powerful  engines  hard  at  work  in  their  revolutioks,  illus- 
trating by  their  steady  action  and  their  well-directed  force,  both  the  tri- 
umph of  man's  genius,  and  the  wealth  of  his  resources.  Among  their 
sliding  bars  and  revolving  shafts,  quietly  moved  the  Engineer  and  his 


FntBMHH  iOm^ffin  mBA^^DQWII/ifllLOW. 


II 


^y 


iBBistantB,  occupying  positdons  in  which  the  inexperienced  eye  would 
award  certain  destruction,  but  in  all  which  they  seemed  as  undisturbed 
and  as  much  at  ease,  as  are  our  friends  who  move  aroiuid  their  parlors  at 
home.  I  will  npt  hef^  K^vtuiB  on  aay  diiK$ripti(ms  of  ^ese  splendid 
engines,  their  dimensions,  capacity,  cost,  maker,  &c,  as  these  are  sta- 
tistics long  since  made  fiuaUiar  to  the  readers  <^  this  work,  and  conse- 
quently would  but  prove  a  repetition  of  former  reading. 
f  Light  veoa  galleries  were  thrown  over  and  around  the  machinery, 
$i0tti  which  we  could  observe  the  dififerent  parts  in  their  various  work- 
iii^  and  each  one  of  them,KK>  matter  how  ponderons,  moved  m  the  action 
ai^oiOted  for  it,  with  all  the  ease  and  grace  of  a  £ur  lady's  hand  when 
wtfisng  adieu  to  hex  lover.  Beneath  us,  fiur,  far  down  and  apparently 
flfwae  tturty  or  forty  feet  irotci  the  mam  deck,  the  poor  firemen  (oneof 
whom  hf^  already  been  noticed),  ^^ived,  and  moved  and  had  their 
bmg."  From  our  position  we  were  enabled  to  look  directly  down 
ujieA  and  watch  them  in  their  labors— flinging  open  the  doors  of  thair 
QUMsive  oven^like  liumaees,  iBttrring  up  fires  that  seemed  ahready  f^roe 
eaaugh  to  oonsonae  us  all,  and  pouring  into  their  flames  a  never  oeaaing 
qftaatity  of  eoal. 

Poor  fellows  I  how  1  pitied  them  in  their  blazing  toil,  fancy  suggesting 
thai  in  these  terrible  labors  they  must  be  working  out  a  punishment  lor 
some  grievous  sin  against  their  neighbor,  or  the  laws  of  the  land.  Yet 
wbem  theiy  ascended  to  deck  for  their  grog  or  dinner,  no  sorrow  show- 
ed itself  on  their  brows,  nor  any  evidence  of  care  at  their  hearts.  Thej 
wiped  the  inky  sweat  from  ihcnr  foreheads,  and  walked  forward  as  men 
CKMented  wkk  their  lot^  not  caring  ev^  to  regard  the  jeers  of  the 
epok's  Gbltk  seuUi(»,  who  as  he  staggered  past  with  his  basket  of  un- 
pasiojipotalossybid  ^^be  ^iif  na^en  fiat  ^nt  of  Ms  w^J^^ 


$14  TRATBLB  IV  THB  flOUTUWlSf. 


. 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  90UTH-WE9T. 


■AmAWATj 


Hie  meftl  began,  and  with  it,  a  pulling  and  pndiing  among  Iha 
joonger  children,  whUe  the  mistress,  who  occupied  the  head  of  Iha* 
table,  busied  herself  in  doing  its  honors,  and  scolding  the  difldroL 
Hie  scene  was  much  after  this  manner,  her  tones  being  more  like  the 
notes  of  a  steam  whistle,  than  that  of  a  human  voice :    **'  You !  Chrl^ 
topher  Columbus,  remain  quiet,  you  shall  have  your  supper  when  I  gel 
ready  to  give  it  to  you,'* — ^then,  in  quite  a  subdued  strain,  with  the 
blandest  smile,  she  would  say  to  me — ^'^do  you  take  sugar  in  your* 
tea  V*    Then  might  be  heard  the  stifled  sobbing  of  Christopher  Colum- 
bus, followed  by  a  scuffle  between  him  and  Americus  Ve^ueius  who 
stood  by  his  side,  undertaking  to  appropriate  the  honors  of  prior  di»-  ■ 
oovery  to  a  bit  of  meat  that  had  been  dropped  on  the  floor.     In  shrill 
notes  next  came  the  command,  ^  Hellen  Mar,  bring  me  the  tea  pot 
from  the  Are !"    Marm !  let  Queen  Charlotte  go."      ^  I  am  holding 
Joe  Lane,'^  was  the  reply  from  Hellen  Mar. 

William  Andrew  Jackson,  you  go  and  bring  me  the  tea  pot,  and  lei 
Queen  Charlotte  remain  where  she  is. 

By  this  time  Lewis  Cass  had  pushed  Martin  Van  Buren  over  a  chair, 
and  a  great  rumpus  was  produced  in  the  wigwam.  Van  Buren  made 
but  little  noise,  but  in  moody  silence  meditated  revenge,  with  a  cun- 
ning lear  lurking  in  the  eye ;  while  Tom  Cof win  was  crjring  most  lus- 
tily— ^the  chair  having  fallen  on  his  toes.  This  was  a  little  too  much 
for  the  equinimity  of  ^^•pap^'^  who,  good  easy  soul,  was  rarely  ever 
moved  from  his  profound  quiet,  and  doubtless,  would  have  allowed 
this  matter  to  pass  unnoticed,  had  not  Lewis  in  his  hurry  to  avoid  a 
well  directed  blow  at  his  head,  from  the  hand  of  the  presiding  genius 
of  the  establishment,  come  in  contact  with  the  chair  of  his  worthy  sire^ 
which  poised  on  one  leg,  as  he  discussed  a  plate  of  venison  hash,  tmd- 
ing  to  bring  him  prostrate  on  the  floor.  His  ire  was  aroused.  A 
blow  on  the  occiput  of  Lewis  had  a  striking  eflect — and  utter  prostra- 
tion ensued,  whereupon  for  a  short  period,  quiet  prevailed.  "  That  is 
a  surly  urchin,"  said  the  father,  casting  a  glance  at  Martin — "  hush,** 
squalled  out  the  mother, ''  Til  not  have  one  of  my  boys  abused  by  its 
dad ;  and  that  before  a  stranger,  too."  It  was  evident  that  PaUrfa^ 
mtlta«,  liked  not  the  interruption  firora  the  matron,  at  the  head  of  the 


A  MBfnSrOTnBHBB  FAMHT.  fit 


UMi,  and  fer  oooe  in  his  life  was  indined  to  Msert  the  prerogadve  of 
kii  poBitioii-— and  with  great  atreaa  finished  the  aentencey  saying,  *ho 
was  reTengefol  and  of  great  cunning,  that  he  was  properly^  named,  as 
Indeed  were  all  his  ehildren.**  Wh£le  this  remaric  was  being  made, 
Ae  matron,  I  noticed,  observed  me  very  doselj — and  finding  that  I 
was  obsenring  the  scene  yerj  attentively,  concluded  to  retreat  firom  the 
higli-t<med  position  she  liad  assumed,  remarlcing  that  she  ^  believed  that 
to  be  so,  that  all  the  children  were  properly  named,"  addressing  her- 
self to  me,  she  said  that  it  was  not  her  habit  to  name  a  child  till  it  had 
attained  sufficient  age  to  exhibit  its  traits  of  character,  and  then  to  give 
the  name  of  some  person  of  whom  she  had  icnowledge,  whose  leading 
traits  of  cliaracter  were  the  same  as  those  exhibited  by  the  diild.  She 
was  not  very  mudi  versed  in  such  matters — ^not  thoroughly  read  in  the 
bhanusters  of  those  who  have  cut  a  figure  in  the  world,  yet  she  believed 
she  had  observed  the  world  enough  to  icnow  that  all  her  children  were 
properly  named  on  the  plan  suggested.  Just  then,  John  the  Baptist, 
a  little  white  headed  fellow  of  five  years,  exhibited  his  peculiar  chanuv 
leristies,  undertaking  to  pnt  the  cat  in  the  fire,  by  putting  her  across 
the  pumheons  by  means  of  the  extended  appendage  of  the  spinal  col* 
omn.  ^ 

This  process  being  somewhat  against  the  powerful  disposition  of  this 
specimen  of  the  feline  race — ^resistance  ensued — and  a  bH  of  an  uproar 
was  created,  only  to  be  appeased  by  a  box  on  the  head  by  Herod,  who 
standing  near  by,  administered  the  same,  with  a  will,  at  the  command ' 
of  the  mother.  This  disturbance  being  thus  summarily  quelled — sup- 
per was  permitted  to  proceed  quietly  for  some  time — ^when  I  remarlc> 
ed  to  the  personage  at  the  head  of  the  table,  '^  Are  all  these  children, 
yours,  madam  1  They  seem  to  have  a  strong  fkniily  resemblance,  yet 
you  appear  too  young  to  be  mother  of  so  many."  "  Yes  sir,  they  are 
all  mine,"  was  the  reply,  'Sre  were  married  young."  Ah !  I  remarked, 
that  accounts  for  it.  I  should  judge  from  some  of  the  names,  I  hear, 
that  you  were  democrats,  addressing  myself  more  particularly  to  Neely 
who  by  this  time  had  settled  into  bis  usually  quiet  mood,  and  was 
llien  doing  am{^ef  justice  to  the  viands  before  him ;  but  before  he  had 
time  to  reply--Hin  answer  to  my  question  came  from  the  head  of  the 
table;  ^^  Yes,  to  be  sure,  he  is  a  democrat,  if  he  had  not  been,  he' 
oonld  not  have  got  me — ^my  pap  would  never  give  none  of  his  girls  to - 
a  whig,  I  assure  you.  The  whole  of  our  family,  are  democrats.  But 
I  had  a  cousin,  who  married  a  whig  girl,  but  he  turned  her  to  a  demo- 
crat in  less  than  a  week  after."  ^Ah !"  I  again  remarked — you  have 
one,  I  notice,  by  name  of  Joe  Lane.  Is  he  named  aflerH^^en.  Lane  of 
Indiana  1    ^''Yes,  indeed  he*  is,"  aanomced  the  lady  of  the  house.  '^  He- 


m$t.  TRimui  iir  nm 


:j' .u  ♦,» 


III  jiM(f  Joe  Lime,  «td  I  «Kpto<»t  ii^  wil^  be  a»  gveiit «  bmb  ediile'  dagK*« 
ledlt  at  Us  eyo,  «iry<tidyou  evbi^  se^just  sttohenfeje  iaihe  liWd  of#» 
dhildi  sir."  No,  nuidam,  I  do  tvat  think  I  ever  did ;  and  judging  from 
hlu^  ^e  and  the  luune  iie  beaira^  I  havg  no  doubl,  he  i^  be  made  gov* 
dbnorof  KamCtcbttbka  vlien  ihait  oountrjr  idiaU  be  btougkt  under  th^ 
jmlBdiotkm  of  our  Be{mblio.  ^^  Do  jou  reaUj  tlnnk  ao  V^  die  <}iii^y 
r^lieid — ^tben  pausing  a  moment,  added,  '*  why  not,  as  well  as  Joe 
Lane  be  governor  of  Oregon !  Who  would  'a  thought  it,  when  he  used* 
to  wuAe  eom,  on  the  Ohio  bottom,  and  toat  it  to  Orleanfc,  and  Aof 
cord  wood  for  the  steamboats  on  the  river." 

Here  we  were  all  startled  from  the  repose  we  had  a  few  raonasms 
eqjeyed,  by  the  act  of  Sir  John  Franklin,  who  iiad  been  ambit&oua  W 
obtain  aometbing,  he  knew  not  what,  through  an  unexplored  paasagi^ 
between  the  logs  of  the  cabin  a  short  distance  above  his  reach,  and  itt. 
hia  eflbrte,  had  upaet  the  piul  of  water  which  stood  on  a  high  «hel(  aad 
thrown  its  contents  over  himself,  when  ho— the  diair  on  wludihe  had 
QUmbed,  and  the  pail,  came  tumbling  down  with  a  ruah  and  a  roav 
ovser  the  rough  puncheons  of  which  the  floor  was  oom^poaed.  A  tur- 
moil ensued,  in  which  was  exhibited  the  peculiar  tactics  of  £unily  gov 
ernment,  such  as  might  be  imagined  from  what  you  have  already  seeni 
during  which  I  took  occasion  to  retreat  frx>m  the  table,  which  was  taken 
aa  a  signal  for -an  onslaught,  upon  what  remained,  by  the  corpa  de  ra> 
asrtw,  who  rushed  forward  in  double  quick  time,  without  heaitation  or 
delay--- each  one  evidently  supposing  that  vietory  would  depeBd  <m 
individaal  effort  I  made  good  my  eacape  .throuf^  the  back  deott 
m^orel  found  my  horses  nibblii^  the  provender  which  had  been  placed 
before  them. 

Hie  evening  was  spent  in  conversation  in  whidi  I  gained  much  infoii- 
flMtion  in  relation  to  the  country. 

Mr.  Neely,  was  an  Indianian,  not  fiur  from  the  ObifO  river,  but  hsd 
reaided  in  Texas  five  years ;  during  which  tin:ie  he  had  made  aeveaal 
ehangea  of  loeaAion,  and  yet  he  was  not  fully  satisfied*  He  waa  Uka 
tiKmsands  of  othera  of  his  dass,  who  are  ever  hearing  of  a  more  bea^ 
ttlkl  country  just  beyond  them ;  a  place  where  all  thi4  waa  destrabU 
for  the  hiq^lneSB  and  comfiMrtof  man,  came  spontaneoua  from  tke 
eatth;  where  water  w«s  the  purest  and  coolest^  iowing  in  brig^iMt 
cvyatala  from  the  side  of  roBa^ntic  mountains,  and  running  in  InMti^irlng 
streams  along  the  plains ; — where  fruits  of  endless  variely,  and,  of  g^eat 
hMOlisneas  add  flavor  ripeneli  the  whole  twelve  Hiontha,  attdatall  b^ 
mm,  in  mellow  pendants  hai%ittvitii^ly,  asking  to  be  gathered ;  wfasve 
flowers  of  profliae  abundance^  ridi  in  d^ieacy  of  tint  and  hoe,  bloomed 
and  flouridied  on  ev«ry  shiyb    sad  where  catde^-^teek  «nd  fine,  fii^ 


MsmLVB'cm  m  mafn. 


liMdon/iUie  eMr^gr^ngKita,  vatiMmt€ii:<6  0i^a1tailiOB  frotawij^tiatt^ 
i^tlmg^meoi  all Tarieli€By was ioexbinntebly  abundaafe;  FhUe  thft 
maA  #as  laMurimtly  pioduettve  lo  aU  who  choae  to  cnlthmte  ita  mri 
iaUtatig,  boaemt-^^with  aftmospbere  ao  piure,  that  siiH  oolf  beast  eooU 
^  aaocepi  by  aocideBt  or  deiign-  ■  and  wbttre  the  dead  seqaired  &ot  Hi 
be  eeobalmed,  to  be  preserved  firom  deoay* 

Sneh  is  a  brief  outlbie  of  the  oiany  stories  which  fill  the  ear  of  Iba 
sngrluit  to  a  new  oountry,  ia  whioh  he  puts  onore  or  less  iUth,  sbA 
iit  stfiifih  cost,  of  time  aad  money,  moves  from  plaee  to  pUc»-«vsiB||) 
seskiog  the  el  dorado^  till  exhausted  in  mind  and  means.  Meeting 
with  £rash  disappoihtmsnts  at  every  change,  wearied  and  broken,  )m 
sinks  beneath  the  dods,  of  the  last  place  of  his  disappointed  hopes-— 19 
hapra  the  saoie  oourse  of  life  pursued  by  his  descendants,  who  follow 
Wildh  die  same  pertinacity  the  phant(»n  of  the  land  of  gold,  or  -wil  o* 
the  whisp,  the  savae  as  if  the  story  had  for  the  firot,  been  told,  aiui  of 
which  his  aire  had  had  no  knowledge. . 

Seareely  had  he  been  Umg  enou|^  in  any  one  spot,  tx>  test  its  m^m 
MBtiea,  or  wear  away  die  rongh  edges  of  a  new  plaoe,  before  all  toutk 
is  lelt,  to  seek  some  more  oongeniai  spot,  in  the  wilderness  beyondly 
leaving  for  those  who  follow,  to  enjoy  the  fruit  of  their  early  peivsi* 
tioMS  and  years  of  toil  and  exhaustion. 

Of  this  first  class  waa  Neely.  He  had  been  on  the  frontier  all  hW 
Ufb,  and  I  preaume  whoa  dealk  oomes  to  pot  an  end  to  tnawanderiflg^ 
It  will  find  him  snrrounded  by  the  great  blessings  of  an  ^ouomofdU^ 
dhMi,''  in  great  bodily  fetf  of  the  partner  of  his  toils,  his  joys  and  fay 
aonrows,  on  the  very  confines  of  civiBzation,  fiu*  beyond  tiie  sight  «C 
tha  smoke  from  a  neighbor'a  hearth,  and  the  sound  of  the  baric  of  m 
Mi^bor's  watch  dog. 

A  year  and  a  half  in  his  present  looatinn  had  been  ^ilskmgenei^ 
to  ooftvinoe  Mm,  that  he  had  not  yet  found  tlie  most  derirable  plaseeal 
savlli — or  wluKt  his  fhn^  had  painted  from  what  he  heaid. 

Ibal  he  cannat  live  here  widiout  work — neither  can  he  grow  ikb 
any  mxx^  rapidly  than  at  the  pbu»  h6  last  left,  and altiMnigli  he  hasii 
hmn,  tibat  may  be  OQttsidflredcamfortabIa,  with  land  eaon^  ^opened^* 
to  aflord,  with  proper  oultivatioii,  the  ordiBary  snppliea  fer  his  fiuni^ 
with  a  range  for  oattieaBd  swine,  nnsurpaawdindieland;  yetyhemMi 
kave  it  to  go  to  some  move  desiraUe  place !  soraowhere,  hi  the  wsal^ 
where !  he  has  no  definite  kaowle(%e. 

And  so  mnch  inclined  to  move  is  be,  that  I  beliaf«  I  could  hspw 
bought  ins  property  at  half  its  real  value,  had  I  been  dtopesed  to  dilor 
sofeh  a  bai^ida. 

The  night  waa  passed  on  one  of  the  pole  boadstoads  I  ho^M  dssarfaow 


TRATHA  m  TBB  MUTJUWr. 


JMeribed,  but  without  the  adTentuie  of  ftlUng  throu^  Hie  hwmh 
hat  was  partakeu  of  withmuoii  more  quiet  than  the  meal  at  eTeoi^g. 
It  was  at  an  earlj  hour,  when  eaten — ^the  room  was  **]it  up"  by  • 
eandle  standing  in  a  black  botUe  on  the  table.  It  was  so  eariy  thalb 
tbe  forces  from  whom  I  suffered  so  much  annoyance  the  night  befoseii 
were  quiet  in  their  slumbers  and  monung  dreams.  May  they  ever  be 
happy,  is  my  wish.  I  trust  that  some  day  Sir  John  will  find  the  paa- 
sage  sought  without  the  adventure  of  a  second  deluge,  and  that  in  due 
time,  Joe  Lane  may  become  a  governor,  and  that  Queen  Qiaiiotla 
may  not  be  disappointed,  but  that  the  course  of  true  love  may  ever 
run  smooth,  and  that  Herod  will  see  the  error  of  his  great  namesake 
and  profit  byliis  example. 

I  took  leave  of  Neely  and  his  '^  better  half  "  with  many  good  wiahea 
for  their  health  and  prosperity,  and  that  they  might  eventually  find 
that  happy  resting  place  they  had  so  long  been  seeking — ^where  no 
care  would  come — ^and,  at  any  rate,  be  they  as  prosperous  as  thej 
might  be,  their  vocabulaiy  of  names  might  not  be  exhausted  thereby, 
but  as  many  blessings,  as  might,  by  a  bounteous  Providence,  be 
showered  u^on  them — good  and  appropriate  names  might  be  found 
for  them  ail. 

I  drove  this  day  to  the  cabin  of  a  cattle  grower,  thirty  miles  distaat^ 
It  was  at  this  ranch  I  wrote  you  by  the  light  of  a  burning  pine  knot^ 
already  described—^a  very  different  plan  from  Neely's.  The  proprietor 
was  a  cattle  raiser,  and  really  rich  in  his  line,  numbering  them  by 
hundreds.  He  had  been  there  twelve  years,  and  for  a  wonder,  was 
contented  with  his  situaiion.  He  lives  roughly  amid  plenty.  He 
knew  not  the  use  of  a  candle,  for  he  usually  retired  to  his  simpte 
couch  while  the  light  of  day  still  lingered.  And  in  the  morning  he» 
made  use  of  a  pine  knot,  if  he  needed  any  artifidal  light.  He  had 
but  one  table  in  his  house,  for  he  knew  of  but  one  purpose  to  whidr 
such  an  article  could  be  applied,  and  that  was  to  spread  his  frugal 
meal  upon ;  as  for  chairs,  he  made  benches  and  stool»  answer  the  pur- 
poae^^they  were  more  simple  *  in  construction,  consequently  mors 
readily  procured.  Yet  he  had  a  warm  house  (an  uncommon  ocear- 
rence),  with  good  stone  chimneys.  They  were  luxuries  he  could  luUy 
iqppreciate,  and  with  his  means  could  readily  command. 

He  suffered  no  trees  to  grow  near  his  dwelling,  for  they  had  the 
tendency  to  keep  off  the  cool  breezes  of  summer,  and  the  sun  in 
winter ;  besides,  they  were  productive  of  worms  and  caterpillars,  a 
variety  of  vermine  he  desired  to  keep  "  shut  of"  as  much  as  posaiUaiii 
Then  again,  they  might  possibly  blow  down  and  injure  some  body*  or* 
■ome  property  in  the  fall.. 


GONTBHnD/  PB06FRBOIIB  AKD  HAPPY.  ISt 

■  I  ' 

He  owflied  soreral  slaves,  but  most  of  them  poor,  for  they  were  • 
flort  of  useless  appendage  to  the  ranch,  generallj  being  indolent. 
He  had  nothing  lor  them  to  do,  save  during  the  ^*  marking  and  brands 
ing  "  season,  and  to  *'  make  "  a  little  com  to  feed  what  horses  he  used 
i^ut  the  place.  His  pigs  ran  in  ^  bottom  "  and  &ttened  on  the  masft 
of  pecans  and  sweet  acorns,  which,  in  his  estimation,  were  much  better, 
and  vastly  cheaper  than  corn.  This  was  the  place  he  had  fixed  upon 
when  he  first  came  to  the  State,  and  he  was  still  content  and  satisfied 
therewith.  . 

He  lived  independently,  having  all  the  leisure  he  required.  When 
he  needed  meat  for  his  household,  he  ordered  his  slaves  to  kill  a  beef^ 
or  a  couple  of  porkers ;  or,  with  his  trusty  rifle,  he  would  bring  to  his 
table  the  noble  buck,  or  the  wild  turkey  *,  and  when  be  wanted  money, 
be  sold  ten  or  a  dozen  head  of  steers  to  the  cattle  buyers,  who  came 
to  his  door  to  purchase — by  which  means  he  was  enabled  to  procure 
his  ""  groceries,''  or  pay  his  bill  at  the  store  at  the  cross  roads,  ten 
miles  across  the  prairie.  Should  he  desire  honey,  a  word  to  his  ser* 
vants  to  that  effect,  would  procure  it,  for  it  was  abundant  in  the  grove 
not  far  off.  Really,  a  more  independent  personage  could  scarcely  be 
Ibund.  His  wants  were  few,  and  to  supply  them  he  had  the  means 
directly  at  hand.  He  lived  without  care,  amid  ease  and  comfort ; 
without  ambition  or  anxiety  for  distinction.  Surely,  the  prince  of  a 
petty  kingdom,  or  the  autocrat  of  an  empire,  was  not  his  equal  in 
independence. 

The  road  to  the-  town  of  Bonham  is  through  a  more  productive 
country  than  any  I  had  come  over.  Prairie  and  timber  land,  alterna- 
ted, of  fine  qustlil^.  It  was  somewhat  past  sundown  when  I  '*  put  up  '* 
at  the  only  hotel  in  the  above  named  place. 

Can  there  be  a  more  cheerless,  or  really  revolting  sight,  than  when 
you  are  expecting  something  nice,  say  a  cup  of  coffee — I  will  not  say 
Java — a  nice  bit  of  broiled  ham,  or  steak,  with  white  bread  and  fresh 
butter,  and  may  be  a  boiled  egg  or  two,  spread  on  a  clean  white  doth, 
with  all  the  table  furniture  of  a  comely  kind  and  arrangement,  to 
bear  the  expected  sound  that  "  dinner  is  ready,"  to  be  ushered  into  a 
low,  black,  dark,  dirty,  dingy  dining-room,  with  but  two  or  three  win^ 
dows,  and  the  glass  in  them  half  broken,  rags  and  spider-webs 
occupying  the  places  of  absent  glass — a  dirty  table  runniug  the  length 
of  the  room,  filled  from  end  to  end  with  dirty  dishes  and  the  remains 
ef .  a  dinner  just  partaken,  with  remnants  of  turkey,  pig,  and  beef 
Atiring  you  in  the  face,  and  apparently  utttering  painful  cries  of  com- 
plaint at  the  barbarous  manner  in  which  they  had  been  treated,  being 
^ptfnitthed  with  dirty  tumblers^  t^Qcl  greasy  pitchers,  half  filled  with 


13&A.Y1RA  W  fm  -WOl'HWUf. 


and  botteF-mflk,  $mA  iiiidnig  mldwiy  on  thili  tM»  m  phto 
mmmfhtit  deaner  than  t&e  real — aat  for  your  uwmaaoit^dkm — wHk 
Atiiase  diahea,  where  forty  peramia  had  been  oarving  and  mumbUng 
for  the  paat  hour,  and  from  which  you  are  expected  to  help  yenraal^ 
and  make  »  dinner  ?  Ah !  methkiks  yon  would  need  the  atomadi  of 
9m  eatrich,  and  the  appetite  of  s  Gaaaoway  to  take  a  meal  imder  tuA 
aireumatBnoes.  But  audi  waa  my  aituation — a  dinner  reeq>tioB  ai  tlia 
Boiduan  hotel. 

As  you  may  imagine,  I  made  a  light  meal ;  and  could  have  wiaiMd 
■ly  self  back  at  the  ranch  of  the  night  before,  where  they  had  kindly 
sweetened  my  coffee  with  honey.  Although  I  stopped  in  tUa  plaea 
aotnefame,  I  suffered  no  forther  inconTenienoes,  as  a  kind  friend  came 
lo  my  relief^  keeping  me  at  his  house  the  remainder  of  my  sojourn. 

Hiis  is  the  county  town  of  Fannin  county,  numbering  tiie  usual  m^ 
ehanics  found  in  such  towns,  and  four  stores.  Tlie  houses  are  ^  few 
aaid  scattering,"  and  as  is  common  in  places  where  **  board  fainber'*  ia 
scarce,  but  few  have  fences  or  any  kind  of  enclosures  about  them.  TUa 
gives  it  a  very  barren  and  ragged  appearance,  and  quite  uninviting  to 
a  stronger.  A  brick  court  house  graces  the  public  square,  around 
which  the  principal  part  of  the  town  is  built.  But  a  more  perfect  al^ 
ortion  by  way  of  a  public  building  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  any- 
where. I  was  glad  to  get  away  from  the  town,  for  that  roof! !  really 
^'^ spooked^  me ;  and  even  now  haunts  my  memory.  If  the  architeot 
of  that  building  be  living,  as  a  penance  for  this  sin  of  commission,  he 
should  be  compelled  to  look  at  it,  three  days,  each  week,  till  he  would 
sonsent  to  alter  it,  and  if  he  be  dead,  well,  I  will  not  say,  what  should 
%e  done,  but  I  will  express  the  opinion  that  he  cannot  rest  easy  in  his 
grave. 

TTie  persons,  whose  duty  it  was  to  receive  this'  building,  on  the  part 
^the  county,  must  have  been  blind,  and  the  citizens'of  the  place,  must 
fce  more  stupid  than  is  the  common  lot  of  mortals,  if  th«y  snfier  Uw 
thinff  to  long  remain  as  it  now  is. 

'  This  has  been  a  good  point  to  sell  goods,  and  a  very  sucoesafol  husf- 
•eas  has  been  done  by  a  few  persons,  early  engaged  in  it.  The  timds 
Mtended  for  many  miles — but  as  the  country  has  filled  up,  a  eompetik 
Hon  has  sprung  up,  so  that  at  the  present,  the  trade  is  much  divlds^ 
and  profits  of  course  much  lessened. 

As  to  health,  many  are  the  notions  entertiuned  eonoeming  it,  k  ia 
sontended  that  the  immense  bottom  lands  overflowed,  by  the  Bio  if 
Are,  a  considerable  stream  which  runs  within  a  mile  and  a  hdf,  Ml 
Wm  air  with  a  miasma  that  is  exceedingly  deleterious ;  wWe  on  the 
stfher  hand,  it  is  said  that  the  town  is  suAMently  fhr  fh>m  tli»  ^^bolh 


jiinr  SLSEUL 


tan'*  te  b»  beyond  ite  infiiieflOB.  Bui  m  iMst  m  I  lem,  trom  some 
mnm  tiikm  ths  pmxlini^  to  'IhaB&e  d*  Am^  or  ridk  y«geteUe  d^ 
posit  of  all  the  lands  sbont,  libsn  stinred  up  by  %he  plow — ^(Mrodaoss 
mueh  sickness.*. 

fVom  the  very  gentlemsniy  stDentioSy  #ee»ived  frsm  several  penons 
kere  and  the  vtey  kind  and  urbane  manner  of  Mr.  Alexander  and 
ftmOy  towaris  me^  my  stay  was  made  pleasant  and  agreeaMe.  i  left 
with  emotions  of  a  grateftd  character,  hoping  that  I  may  have  the  {deas- 
ttve  of  again  pi^mg  them  a  visit 

My  way  from  Bonham  to  a  small  hamlet  called  Ann  Eliea,  was  over 
a  beautiM  prairie  country,  with  frequent  streams  on  the  way,  or  move 
.properly  apeaking,  places  where  tinrehave  been  streams ;  it  is  now  so 
dry  through  the  country,  that  most  of  the  water  courses  are  dried  n^ 
each  of  which  is  skirted  with  a  growth  of  timber  of  greater  or  less  eft- 
tent,  ihmislnng,  as  the  settlers  say,  enough  ibr  all  practical  purposes. 

Although  it  was  the  last  of  November,  the  day  was  quite  warm-* 
an  overcoat  <^any  description  was  unnecessary,  and  I  drove  over  the 
smooth  road  as  pleasantly  as  I  could  have  done  in  die  montii  of  June. 
There  had  been  frost  enough  to  turn  the  leaf  of  the  oak,  to  wintry 
brown,  and  to  carpet  the  earth  with  that  same  sober  hue.  Yet  where 
the  fire  had  made  a  sweep  through  the  prairie,  the  youDg  grass  was 
shooting  forth,  presenting  a  beautiful  contrast 

The  white  rock,  of  which  I  have  made  mention,  crops  out  in  varions 
places,  affording  many  fine  opportunities  to  procure,  with  little  labor, 
this  most  excellent  building  material.  It  is  quarried  with  great  care, 
being  in  strata  of  various  thicknesses,  from  nine  to  eighteen  inches. 
At  the  very  surface,  blocks  of  any  required  size  can  be  readily  taken 
out  It  is  so  soft,  that  It  is  easily  cut  with  an  axe  or  sawed  into 
blocks;  but,  when  exposed  to  the  atmosphere  for  sonle  time,  it 
becomes  hard,  so  as  to  resist  the  action  of  wind  and  rain. 

There  are  diflferent  varieties  of  this  rock,  differing  in  quality — some 
of  which  will  endure  a  great  degree  of  heat :  others,  again,  which  will 
not  bear  heat  at  all,  but  crumble  at  a  low  temperature ;  while  others, 
again,  crumble  when  exposed  to  wet  or  cold  weather.  Much  use  is 
made  of  one  variety  in  building  chimnies ;  and  it  will,  I  am  sure,  be 
extensively  used  for  building,  when  the  country  becomes  older  and 
more  densely  settled.  Now,  there  are  but  few  persons  to  work  it 
and  put  it  into  walls — ^most  of  the  settlers  being  content  to  live  in 
huts  of  the  rudest  description,  caring  but  little  for  looks  or  comfort 
All  is  in  a  new  state,  all  are  on  an  equality,  or  nearly  so ;  but  by  and 
bye  thiB  state  of  afiairs  will  change,  and  fine  stone  houses  will  be 
found  rearing  their  roofr  in  all  parts  of  the  land. 


TRAVELS  nr  THE  SOUTHWEST. 


The  night  spesit  at  Ann  Eliza  was  at  a  house  of  private  ent^ttaia- 
menti'  kept  by  an  old,  grey-headed  man  of  more  than  mxty^ve 
winters,  who  had  a  young  wife  with  a  small  child  in  her  arms.  Hie 
&mily  was  large,  consisting  mostly  of  boys,  of  all  ages,  from  the  littie 
fellow  who  waddles  by  the  knee  of  his  &ther  in  petticoats,  up  through 
the  various  grades  of  jack-knife  and  marble  memory,  to  him  who  baa 
turned  up  the  stiff  ^irt-coUar  and,  for  the  first  time,  donned  tb^ 
cravat,  which  he  has  tied  in  the  ^  most  bewitching  bow-knot."  Tlie 
old  man  is  a  Kentuckian,  and  a  most  zealous  Baptist-*-not  of  the  old 
ironside  school,  as  he  says,  but  of  the  new,  liberal  order.  From  hia 
reports,  one  would  suppose  the  Baptists  had  taken  the  nation,  and  in 
a  short  time,  a  person  of  any  other  persuasion  would  with  difiicultj 
be  found.  But  the  Mormons,  he  says,  it  is  hard  to  beat — ^there  is  no 
accounting  for  their  increase.  Sometimes  he  thinks  their  religion  is 
all  a  delusion,  yet,  if  it  was  so,  it  could  not  prosper  as  much  as  it 
really  does — for  surely  the  hand  of  the  Lord  appears  to  be  in  it 

The  Methodists,  he  said,  were  increasing  considerably,  and  would 
do  so  for  some  little  time  to  come ;  but  their  race,  he  thought,  was 
nearly  run — when  the  whole  world,  except  the  Mormons,  would  coma 
over  to  the  Baptist  fiiith. 


aga^k  0f  CrM 


VOL.  1.]  SEPTEMBER,  1857.  [NO.  0. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


IT  Mar.  GEO.  DUmCLO,  D.  D. 


Hie  Campo  Santo  or  cemetery,  is  near  the  duomo.  This  is  the  namft 
given  to  all  similar  places  of  interment  in  Italy.  It  was  founded  by 
Archbishop  Ubaldo  1188-1120,  who,  retreating  from  Palestine,  carried 
with  him  fifty-three  vessels  laden  with  earth  from  Calvary,  whidi 
earth,  the  fabulous  tradition  said,  reduced  to  dust  in  twenty  four  hoius 
whatever  is  buried  in  it.  This  earth  deposited  in  this  ground,  forms 
the  central  parallelogram  or  court,  around  which  are  ranged  four  ar- 
cades of  gothic  arches.  It  is  415  feet  6  inches  long,  137  feet  10  inches 
broad.  Old  Roman  sarcophagi  and  tombs  of  various  patterns,  are 
ranged  along  the  walls.  Fresco  paintings,  executed  by  Giotti,  of  the 
life  of  Job  adorn  the  wall  on  one  side.  Another  series  comprises  the 
Crucifixion,  the  Resurrection  and  Ascension,  the  Universe,  the  Crea- 
tion, the  Death  of  Abel,  Noah,  and  the  Deluge.  The  picture  of  the 
Creation  of  Man  and  Woman  excited  opposing  emotions.  At  one 
moment,  the  rude  impiety  of  the  picture  seemed  to  shock  my  sensibil*> 
ities;  and,  at  the  next,  I  could  scarcely  refrain  from  immoderate 
laughter,  at  the  ludicrous,  and  even  ridiculous  conception  of  the  artist 
Adam  is  represented  asleep,  in  a  nude  condition ;  and  the  Almighty 
pulling  Eve  out  of  the  side  of  his  body,  from  which  she  has  been 
almost  entirely  extricated — (^e  foot  and  ande  only  remaining  unpro* 
duoed!!! 

There  is,  in  one  of  the  compartments,  a  series  of  fresco  paintiogS| 
by  Andrea  and  Bernardo  Orgazna, — one  of  which  represents  the  Last 
Judgment,  and  is  tolerably  well  preserved.  An  equal  portion,  of 
different  ranks  and  orders  of  men  is  to  be  seen  divided  off  by  aroli> 
angels.  The  countenances  of  the  one  part  express  joyous  emotionsi 
and  [of  the  other,  shame,  horror  and  despaur.    Kings,  queens  and 


396  NOTBS  OF  FOBSIGN  TKAYVL. 

priefltB  are  among  the  damned ;  and  a  Franciscan  monk,  who  seems  to 
have  impudently  or  improperly  placed  himself  among  the  blessed,  is 
.  arrested  by  the  archangel  and  carried  to  the  other  side !  Solomon  is 
seen  rising  exactly  between  the  two,  as  though  he  did  not  exactly 
Imow  to  which  he  belonged.  The  Archangels  are  three  in  number. 
One,  in  the  centre,  holds  the  double  sentenoe  in  his  hands — ^'  Come, 
ye  blessed ;— depart  ye  cursed."  Michael,  who  executes  vengeance, 
has  a^fieroe  countenance.  The  countenance  of  the  third  is  partly  con- 
eealed — as  though  he  were  the  guardian  angel,  grieying  over  the  lopa 
of  so  many  who  had  been  committed  to  his  charge. 

A  second  painting  is  the  picture  of  Hell,  and  horribly  diagostifig. 
A  third  is  the  triumph  of  Death — ^presenting  ghssUy  corpses  in  three 
different  stages  of  decay  ;  the  destroying  angel  leveling  his  scythe  to 
out  down  a  joyous  party  of  youth ;  the  blind,  maimed,  diseased  and 
wretched,  imploring  relief  from  death ;  rich  and  potent  knights,  moOr 
mils  and  bishops  among  tbose  mnitten ;  and  the  souls  of  the  dej»^rted, 
^e  new*bom  babes,  seised  by  aogds  or  demons,  as  they  escape  with 
the  last  breath  of  the  deceased — the  sky  abov^  being  filled  with  th^ee 
I  agents,  bearing  off  their  possessions.  The  horror  of  a  soul,  that  finds 
itself  in  the  grasp  of  a  devil,  is  well  depicted ;  and  the  Hell,  to  which 
these  ministers  of  vengeance  bear  their  prey,  is  the  mouth  of  a  vqI- 
oano.  This  monstrous  exhibition,  however,  is  in  perfect  keeping  wifh 
the  notion  prevalent  in  past  ages,  among  the  Roman  Oatholics^  that 
Mount  iEtna  was  the  entrance  to  the  infernal  world. 

Among  the  other  puntings  on  the  walls,  I  noticed,  particularly,  one 
representing  the  cultivation  of  the  vine  and  the  drunkenness  of  Noah. 
In  this  picture,  a  female  is  seen  attempting  to  cover  her  face 
with  her  hand,  but  curiously  and  furtively  peeping  through  her  fingei)s. 
A  number  of  legendary  and  historical  pieces  exhibit  Abraham  and 
other  Old  Testament  worthies, — some  of  them  replete  with  odd  con* 
eeptions. 

There  is  still  another  series,  taken  firom  the  life  of  St.  Patrick. 
Especial  honor  seems  to  be  given  to  him,  as  to  a  patron  saint  That 
picture  representing  his  call  to  forsake  the  world,  exhibits  him  as 
eeasing  to  play  upon  the  cembalo^  while  the  gay  damsels,  crowned  with 
garlands,  still  dance  gracefully  before  him.  His  pilgrimage,  his 
embarkation  to  and  from  Palestine,  his  temptation  and  visions  while 
there,  his  discomfiting  the  devil,  his  death,  his  funeral,  and  his  aUegiad 
mirades  after  his  decease,  are  the  subjects  which  have  employed  the 
artist's  inventive  genius.    The  paintings  are  much  impaired. 

Betuming  from  Pisa,  I  was  happy  to  meet  in  the  cars,  and  become 
aoquainted  with,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hucker,  an  interesting  young  Episoop^ 


*>■ 1^ ~~ — — ^^ — — — ^-— --   ^ —  -  ^ — -^ ^-,^— ^-^^_.^^^_^ 

jaipivter  froja  PUladelpUa,  and  bis  nephew,  Mr.  Cummiiigs,— *quit0^ 
.yputb — v)io  were  jpetvnuQg  from  Borne,  via  Florence,  on  their  way 
liffm^ — ^havioi;  arriv^  in  a«ail  teasel  at  Ma^ieiUe«,  9Dd  thenoe  tfikiMi 
II  xypid  trip  iato  Italy,  e]i|>eetiQg  to  be  abflient  but  a  aliort  tiioe  Ireiqi 
'  itmr  Qatire  land.  The  tw)ii^nt  companionahip,  and  even  the  aight^* 
of  a  fellow^xMintrjman,  in  that  land,  Yfkwe  almoat  eyery  one  I  xaaft 
ia  a  atraif gar,  and  the  lantgtttge  not  at  all  fi^niliar  to  my  WB,  ia  anmqg 
^  pleasing  ijusidenta  of  my  journey. 

After  my  return  from  Piaa,  I  improved  my  time  to  aee  and  leajm 
aa  iwch  of  Leghorn,  Itaiiae  Livomo,  ae  I  could.  It  ia  a  free  port»  but 
^pioder  Auatrian  protection.  Kngliah  and  French  goods  are  to  be 
obtained  at  reasonable  rates.  Coral  ornaments  are  manu&ctured  have 
in  great  beauty.  Its  trade  is  not  feto  brisk  or  extensive  aa  fonn^ly-^ 
Genoa,  by  reason  of  the  liberal  government  of  Sardinia,  reviving  rap- 
i^y,  and  interleriag  with  its  prosperity,  under  its  jNresent  political 
apiib|VTas9P;Leii^.  The  protection  of  the  Austrian  government  m^ 
h^ve  saved  it  from  immiddiate  calamity  during  the  late  revolution ; 
but  it  is  dangerous  to  its  permanent  liberty  and  prosperity,  ft)r  a  free 
port  to  invite  the  aid  and  arms  of  a  despotic  foreign  sovereign.  His- 
tory shows,  that  the  powerful  ally  of  a  feeble  nation,  invited  to  its  aid, 
ia  ultimately  as  bad  as  an  enemy,  if  not  worse.  Travellers  are  sub- 
jected to  various  sorts  of  extortion,  and  pestered  at  every  step  by 
sturdy  beggars.  The  population  is  between  seventy  and  eighty  thou- 
sand, of  whom  a  tenth  part  i^e  Jews.  The  English  have  a  ehapel 
here,  .i|nd  a  resident  chaplain.  Different  forms  of  religion  are  per- 
mitted to  have  their  places  of  worship. 

A  marble  statue  of  Ferdinand  I  adorns  this  city.  The  four  comers 
of  the  pedestal  are  four  Turkish  slaves,  in  bronze, — said  to  be  exact 
representations  of  the  manly  strength  and  bravery  of  a  father  and 
three  sons — taken  in  the  battle  of  Lepanto  by  the  galleys  of  the  order 
l>f  St.'  Stephen — ^by  whose  aopearance  the  Grand  Duke  was  much 
attracted. 

^  There  is  a  monastery  near  the  city,  on  the  hill  adjoining,  which  is 
.xs^vered  with  the  villas  of  the  wealthy  Livomese.  It  contains  a  large 
.and  noted  picture  of  the  Virgin  with  the  infant  Savior,  which  has  been 
^worshipped  by  the  people  for  500  years.  The  fijse  and  barefaced 
.  tradition  concerning  it,  is,  that  it  sailed  itself  from  Negropc»[it  to  the 
neighboring  shore,  where,  being  found  by  a  peasant,  the  Virgin 
'  directed  it  to  be  carried  to  the  place  it  now  occupies !  The  inAnt 
^avioir  is  represented  aa  holdiijg  a  string  tied  to  a  small  bird. 

The  supersition  of  the  peo{Ae  here  appeared  to  me  even  more  gross 
.^  pff^nsive,  than  any  I  had  yet  aeen.    Last  n^t^  as  I  was  passing 


'888  NOTES  OP  FORBiaH  TRAVBL. 

m  II  M  ■ .  ■  ■  II         ■    ■  ^1^ 

along  one  of  the  streets,  I  observed,  at  a  distance,  a  torch-light  proces- 
mon  moving  very  rapidly.  It  had  emanated  from  a  churdi  not  bat 
from  our  hotel,  and  was  that  of  the  priest,  with  boys  and  otJiers^ 
chanting  as  they  went,  and  bearing  what  they  call  ^  the  holy  saerft- 
ment "  to  a  sick  and  dying  person.  I  took  my  stand  bear  the  door  of 
the  church,  to  witness  the  return  of  the  procession.  As  it  drew  near, 
I  observed  that  the  people  all  uncovered  their  heads,  and  some  kneltw 
My  companion  and  myself  retained  our  hats  on  our  heads.  The  mar- 
shal of  the  procession,  or  beadle,  or  whatever  else  he  may  be  called, 
observing  us,  showed  great  signs  of  wrath,  and  cursed  us,  as  he  passed 
by  our  side,  for  our  boorish  profanity ;  but  no  other  molestation  was 
offered  to  us  than  his  angry  exclamation  ot  '^  diahles !  diables  /" — 
calling  us  devils ! 

At  five  p.  M.  we  embarked  on  board  the  Frendb  steamer  Ftlfe  de 
Marseilles,  where  I  was  greatly  surprised  and  delighted,  immediately 
on  stepping  on  the  deck,  to  be  greeted  with  the  cordial  shake  of  tihe 
hand  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  C.  Hall,  Corresponding  Secretary  of  the  A. 
H.  M.  S.,  and  quickly  after  by  the  Rev.  A.  Barnes,  of  Philadelphia, — 
who,  with  his  &mily  and  Miss  Paul,  of  that  city,  were  on  their  way  tx> 
Rome.  The  two  sons  of  Dr.  Baird,  one  of  them  chaplain  elect  to  oar 
American  Charge  d'  Affaires  in  Rome  (Major  Lewis  Cass,  Jr.),  and 
the  other  late  attache  of  our  embassy  in  Turkey,  were  also  passengers 
on  board.  Our  greetings  were  like  those  of  Horace  and  his  friends, 
when  they  met  on  the  way  to  Brundenheim — "  Oquanti  amplexas,  quanta 
guadia  fueri  P*  It  afforded  us  no  little  mirth,  to  find  five  Presbyte- 
rian ministers  in  company  on  their  way  to  Rome ! 


CHAPTER  XI. 

OinfUa  Veeehia — pastpori  arrangemenl'--journey  to  Botm    .Bbftwicg-Kwrf  Sek" 
haih  there, 

October  16/A.  Our  voyage  to  Civita  Vecchia  was  pleasant,-  but 
being  in  the  night,  we  saw  nothing  of  the  coast  from  the  time  it  h^ 
came  darlc.  The  sea  was  smooth,  and  none  of  the  numerous  passeiv 
gers  complained  of  sickness.  It  was  about  7  o'clock  A.  M.,  when  w« 
cast  anchor  in  this  ancient  port.  I  looked,  with  much  curiosity  upon  tiie 
moles  and  fortress  here,  erected  in  the  tendi  century,  after  the  destruo- 
^on  of  the  ancient  town  by  the  Saracens.  Hie  port  is  the  worlrof 
Trajan,  the  Roman  Emperor,  from  whom,  as  desmbed  by  Pliny^  it 
took  the  name  of  ^  Trajani  portus."  My  anxiety  to  readi  Rome  be- 
fore the  Sabbath  was  fitr  greater  than  my  curioaity ;  and  the  object  at 


PA68P0BTB,— CUSTOM  HOUfiSa  380r 

■  11    !■     I  II.     ■■  ..  ■       ■  .  .    ,  ^    ..m 

^i^»^«^— ^— J^— ^1— -^-^-»^—"-i     »«l»»i»iii  -I    II  ■  I       i«    ^   i^^j-^-Mj    —  ■  I    -  I——  , 

due^interest  to  us  was,  to  debark  and  quit  the  place  at  the  earliest  pos- 
sible'period.  It  was  10  o'clock  before  all  the  impedimenta  thrown  in 
the  w*y,  by  the  police  and  custom  house  arrangements  were  removed. 
The  Captain,  as  at  Genoa,  had  first  to  land  and  deliver  the  passports  of. 
vil  the  passengers  to  the  police.  Ailer  his  return,  we  were  detained 
till  the  passports  had  all  been  examined  at  the  office,  and  certificates, 
adcnowledging  the  receipt  of  them,  had  been  prepared  for  each  passen- 
ger. In  due  season  the  ofBcial  dignitary  made  his  appearance,  and  hay* 
ing  produced  his  budget  on  deck,  began  to  call  out  the  name  of  each 
passenger,  delivering  certificates  as  they  were  received. 

We  were  informed  that  we  must  take  care  of  the  certificates,  and  pro- 
dace  them  at  the  police  office,  in  order  to  re-possess  our  passports.  It 
was -very  amusing  to  hear  the  Italian  attempt  to  pronoimce  our  Eng- 
lish and  American  names,  and  sometimes  difficult;  for  the  person  called, 
to  understand  his  own  name.  Mr.  Barnes  was  Signore  Barneese,  Dr. 
Hidl  Dottore  Hell,  and  my  own  name  was  manufactured  into  Signore 
Dooffieeldti. 

This  very  tedious  process  concluded,  our  luggage  was  then  called 
for,  to-be  landed  and  delivered  at  the  custom  house.  We  were  beset 
with/accAt»t  or  porters,  all  eager  to  render  their  services.  Two  paula 
or  20  b^ocehi, — equal  to  about  20  cents  of  our  money, — ^paid  the  ex- 
pense, per  head,  of  landing,  including  a  truck  for  conveying  the  baggage 
to  the  custom  house.  The  bargain  had  been  made  on  the  steamer  be- ' 
fore  debarking,  advantage  however  was  taken  of  those  who  knew  not 
the  customary  charges,  and  had  made  no  bargain  previously  to  land- 
ing. I  found  Murray's  guide,  both  in  this  as  well  as  other  respects,  of 
great  advantage. 

Upon  the  delivery  of  our  baggage,  at  the  custom  house,  we  repaired 
to  Orlandi's  Hotel,  quite  adjacent,  and  there  breakfasted ;  after  which 
we  prepared  for  the  process  of  having  our  trunks  examined.  It  was 
lK>th  tedious  and  vexatious — each  one,  in  haste  to  begone,  crowding  up 
their  trunks  for  inspection  as  soon  as  possible.  The  main  search  seem- 
ed to  be  for  fire  arms  or  instruments  of  death,  and  tobacco,  as  such 
well  classed  together.  Abhorring  both  I  anticipated  no  evil  on  thia' 
account;  but  having  purchased  at  La  Tour  a  copy  of  Monastier's  His- 
tory of  the  Waldenses  in  two  octavo  volumes,  in  the  French  language, 
I.did  not  know,  but  that  it  might  be  seized,  should  the  functionary  have 
a  knowledge  of  its  diaracter.  I  had  heard  stories  too  of  forfeiting  tarav- . 
elers  Bibles,'  ^ec^,  and  having  both  an  Hebrew  and  English  copy  of  the 
Sorlptures  and  a  Greek  Testament,  was  somewhat  apprehensive  lest 
^tbsse^  the  prized  companions  of  my  journey,  might  be  separated  firom 
ma.    But  I  found  that  my  courteous  treatment  of  the  oSicial  was  recip* 


8d0  NOTfid  OF  FOBBION  7BAT1SL 

;   III  !■■■■■  I    ■    ■  »  ■  ■  ■    M  ■  .1    ■     ■      ■■      ^i^i     !■■  1  l^t  imirn/^ 

rooated,  and  the  delivery  of  a  moderate  fee  elempt^  nie  fiK>iti  mdllto^ 
tation^  An  extra  fee  was  required  to  be  paid;  fbr  what  is  called  pluml^ 
lag  the  baggage,  whidi  was  done  hj  tying  cords  around  tile  trtmki,  afid 
attaching  to  them  little  pieces  of  lead,  bearing  tile  seal  or  stump  of  Mv 
holiness,  the  pope's  government,  which,  however,  though  not  removert 
at  all,  did  not  exempt  us,  from  the  demand  of  the  officers,  at  the  gatefel 
of  Rome,  fbr  a  fresh  search,  before  we  would  be  allowed  to  eateif  tii^ 
city ! !  But  fi'om  this  we  obtained  exemption,  by  deliyering  onotiiol^ 
two  pauls  to  the  official  expecting  it. 

Upon  leaving  Civita  Vecchia  we  had  to  stop  at  the  police  oiRce,  aad 
before  getting  our  passports,  to  pay  for  their  being  vised,  ^le  official 
Was  most  provokingly  slow,  in  his  movements,  and  receiving  his  ftwiL 
Notwithstanding  our  baggage  had  been  examined  aft  the  custom  housiSj 
the  authorities  of  the  town  demanded,  after  we  had  passed  tiie  ^tes^  A» 
further  search,  from  which  the  delivery  of  two  or  three  ad^tioniA 
pauls  secured  exemption.  Our  first  experience,  on  entering  tiie  ^ 
minions  of  his  holiness,  the  pope,  was  by  no  means  &yorable  to  Hla 
government  Kapacious  demands  for  money,  and  extortion,  charao- 
t^rixe  the  whole  system — religious,  political,  and  dvil— K>f  this  ^rnUtt 
of  sin,'^  this  sanctimonious  sacerdotal  robber. 

About  one  o'clock  we  took  our  departure,  from  this,  by  no  meana 
agreeable  port  of  entry  to  the  papal  states,  having  encountered  imped- 
iments from  police,  custom  house,  and  town  officers.  Our  road  to 
Rome,  after  leaving  Civita  Vecchia  run  along  the  sea  coast  fbr  some 
miles.  The  region  wears  an  aspect  of  solitude  and  desolation,  tel 
struck  me  with  surprise.  No  trees  were  to  be  seen  upon  the  hill  sides ; 
no  pleasant  &rms,  or  cottages  of  thrifty  laborers ;  nothing  to  counter- 
act the  impression  made  upon  my  mind,  that  this  once  fikmous  country, 
of  tiie  proudest  and  most  potent  nati<m  on  tiie  face  of  ti>e  earth,  is  worn 
out,  wasted,  and  in  the  last  stages  of  decay. 

The  hotel,  at  which  we  stopped  half  way  between  Gvita  Vecchia  and 
Rome,  was  of  the  most  forbidding  character.  It  is  the  only  one,  in  a 
journey  of  forty -eight  miles,  in  whidi  travelers  can  find  any  accommo- 
dations. It  is  rude,  cumbrous,  filthy,  and  in  every  respect  uncomf<Mt^ 
able.  Cold  fish,  wretched  bread, ''  vin  ardinaitt^^  more  like  ^egar 
than  wine,  rather  repelled  than  greeted  our  impatient  appetites.  Had 
it  not  been  for  a  few  boiled  ^gs,  we  should  have  scarcely  found  any- 
thing fit  to  eat.  Amid  fleas  and  filth,  we  were  detained  here  an  hoar, 
till  the  drivers  had  fed  their  horses.  Tliose  of  our  private  Voitores 
followed  the  same  rule,  that  governed  the  public  Diligence,  so  tint  We 
had  no  occasion  in  this  respect  to  complain.  I  spent  much  of  the  hotf 
in  strolling  around,  and  lookii^  over  the  ftee  of  tiie  country,    thb  a)^ 


« 


ABKHTAL  A7  VBE  QATIB  OF  BOMB.  sn 


]MiftuMe  of  Iii8c»ttii  under  the  yoke^  oooieioiially  paanng,  and  the  ftir 
^Millie  I  noticed,  contrasted,  wonderfQllj,  with  those  of  England  and  the 
Aiited  States*  Some  were  dark  oolored,  between  hrown  and  lead, 
tfMigh  skinned^  raw-boned,  crooked-homed,  high-shonldered  and  heavy- 
bteasted,  more  like  onr  Buffido  llum  any  dass  of  domeetic  animida 
mong  UB.  (Miers  were  of  a  lighter  color,  and  better  shaped,  but 
id^eaiing  enormous  horns  stretching  up  three  feet  and  curving  outward, 
lid  as  to  make  the  space  between  them  still  greater,  as  I  ascertained  by 
actual  measurement 

During  our  ride  we  passed  the  site  of  the  Roman  station  on  the  Au- 
reliftn  way,  called  Ga^trum  Novum  and  Santa  Marinella,  supposed  to 
be  the  ancient  Punicum.  I  noticed  some  fine  looking  ruins  of  two  old 
bridges,  over  which  the  traveler  on  the  Aurelian  way  was  carried, 
across  this  bed  of  a  small  stream.  The  square  massive  blocks  of  ma- 
sdnry,  of  whidi  they  consist,  are  probably  as  ancient  as  the  road  itself. 
Not  more  than  a  couple  of  miles  from  them,  at  a  place  called  Pontone 
M  Gastrato,  are  some  remains  of  polygonal  masonry,  supposed  to 
have  been  the  foundation  and  walls  of  an  Etruscan  dty,  which  flourisb- 
«d  anterior  to  the  rise  of  ancient  Rome. 

The  shades  of  night  closed  in  upon  us,  about  two  hours  before  w» 
MMsbed  tibe  boasted  ^*  eternal  city ;"  and  the  darkness  was  rendered 
intense,  by  a  heavy  storm,  which  rolled  its  rattling  thunders  over  ns^ 
and  poured  upon  us  its  copious  torrents  of  rain.  The  flashes  of  light- 
ning were  frequent  and  vivid,  but  served  only  to  give  us  a  mor^  unfin- 
vorable  impression  of  the  cheerless  and  desolate  region,  through  which 
Vre  passed.  We  had  heard  of  robberies  recently  committed  by  gang^  / 
of  free  hooters,  that  prowl  among  the  Appenines,  and  were  not  without 
solidtude,  lest  we  might  encounter  some  in  the  darknesss  and  loneli^ 
ness  of  our  way. 

The  storm  abated,  and  at  10  P.  M.,  we  arrived  at  the  gates  of 
Borne.  They  were  closed  and  locked ;  and  we  had  to  knock  loudly  for 
admission.  As  we  drew  near  the  walls,  and  the  darkness  of  the  temp- 
est had  ceased,  St.  Peter's  Cathedral  loomed  in  all  its  lojfly  grandeur 
upon  our  view.  It  was  the  first,  and  indeed  the  only  object  that  we 
«aw.  French  soldiers  met  us  at  the  gates.  Our  passports  were  taken  . 
firom  u»,  and  receipts  given,  by  which  they  might  be  redeemed. 

We  were  at  first  told  by  the  military  officer,  who  op^ied  our  vol- 
ture,  and  demanded  our  passports,  that  we  must  leave  it,  and  produce 
our  baggage  in  the  office  adjoining,  for  examination.  This  seemed  to 
be  very  strange  and  vexatious,  after  all  that  we  had  to  endure  and  pay 
At  Givita  Vecchia,  for  the  seardiing  of  our  trunks ;  and  the  more  es» 
pedally,  because  they  had  been  there  plumbed,  as  it  is  called,  fot 


m  KOTBS  OF  FOaBlGH  TfiiviSL. 

Botne^  and  marked  with  the  insignia  of  the  pope^  offidala,  Bat 
some  little  conversation  and  remonstrance^  and  especially  the  preseii- 
tetion  of  a  few  pauls,  which  we  made  up  among  ourselves,  to  the  offi- 
fjfWj  he  politely  bowed,  and  shutting  to  the  door  of  our  voiture,  bid  as 
proceed.  Quickly  after,  we  were  traversing  the  piazza  of  St  Peter's, 
tod  having  passed  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo,  and  ci^ossed  the  Tiber  bjr 
the  bridge  of  the  same  name,  the  ancient  Pons  GSlius,  we  soon 
reached  the  hotel  d'  Angletcrre,  where  we  were  comfortably  provided 
fi)r. 

October  I7th,  Rome.  Sabbath.  My  feelings  were  of  a  peculiar 
nature  as  I  awoke  this  A.  M.,  in  this  ancient  .city,  once  the  proud  mis* 
tress  of  the  world,  and  still,  the  seat  and  centre  of  a  superstition  and 
Spiritual  despotism,  which  sway  the  minds,  and  involve  the  destiny,  of 
a  large  part  of  Europe.  I  thought  of  the  days  of  its  paganism„and  the 
bistory  of  its  Republic,  of  its  Kings,  its  Emperors,  its  Consuls  and  tri- 
umvirs, of  its  wars  and  conquests,  of  its  decline  and  fall,  of  the  rise  of 
the  papal  idolatry  upon  the  ruins  of  its  pagan  predecessor,  and  of  the 
loiDg.  list  of  its  Bishops  and  Popes,  that  have  falsely  and  impiously 
claimed,  in  the  right  of  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ  to  the  king- 
doms of  this  world,  to  be  His  vicar  and  to  exercise  dominion  in  the 
tarth.  Here  I  found  myself,  in  the  very  seat  and  centre  of  one  of  the 
grossest  impositions  that  had  been  ever  practiced  upon  the  credulity 
«nd  conscience  of  mankind ;  and  I  therefore  resolved,  for  the  short  pe> 
xiod  I  expected  to  remain  in  it,  I  would  use  my  utmost  diligence  to 
see  and  learn  all  1  could  about  its  present  aspect  and  condition*  But 
the  day  was  not  my  own.  It  belonged  to  the  Lord.  To  spend  it  in 
looking  afler  sights  and  shows,  and  in  visiting  the  places  resorted  to  by 
travelers,  I  felt  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  sanctification  of  it  He  re- 
qnlres.  The  utmost  that  I  thought  admissible  in  this  respect,  was  to 
repair  to  some  one  of  the  numerous  temples  that  might  be  open,  and 
witness  the  ritual  display,  ii  there  was  no  opportunity  afforded  for  the 
worship  of  God  in  the  American  chapel. 

Mr.  Baird — who  expected  to  commence  his  services  this  day,  as 
ehaplwn,  in  the  room  fitted  up  for  that  purpose  in  the  hotel  of  our 
American  Charge  d^  Affaires,  the  Hon.  Lewis  Cass  Jr., — ^had  asked 
me  to  preach ;  to  which  I  had  consented — feeling,  I  trust,  somewhat 
m  did  Paul,  when  he  said :  ^'  So  much  as  in  me  is,  I  am  ready  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  you  that  are  at  Rome  also."  But  I  had  not  the 
consolation  and  excitement  he  possessed,  in  the  prospect  of  addressing 
toy  of  its  native  inhabitants  in  their  own  language.  The  utmost  I 
anticipated  was  to  meet  a  few  of  my  own  countrymen,  and  such 
Sbglish  residents  as  might  attend.     This  pleasure,  however,  waa 


8T.  PBTEBfl^— JBW-PETKR.  393 

denied  me.  The  rooma  occupied  as  the  Americiui  chapel  had  been 
doeed,  and  were  not,  and  could  not,  on  such  diort  notice,  be  put  ixL 
readiness.  The^re  was,  therefore,  no  preachii^.  Messrs.  Barnes, 
Hamilton,  Hall,  Wells,  the  two  Bairds  and  myself,  however,  met  in 
a  chamber  in  our  hotel,  where  we  spent  an  hour  and  a  half  in  prayer, 
praise,  and  reading  of  the  Scriptures, — and  it  was  a  very  sweet  season. 

I  visited  St.  Peter^s  this  a.  m.  My  object  was  to  see  how  Catholics 
demeaned  themselves  in  their  great  Cathedral  on  Sabbath.  From 
two  to  three  hundred  people  were  straggling  through  the  immense 
building;  tirst  one  priest  and  then  another  performed  low  mass  at 
different  altars ;  about  150  kneeled  indifierently  around,  mostly  very 
poor  people, — and  this  was  all !  There  were  not  half  a  dozen  priests 
in  the  building !  As  I  strolled  through  this  immense  temple,  I  saw 
two  or  three  priests,  some  students  and  others,  kiss  the  toe  of  the 
image  of  Jupiter  as  that  of  Peter.  Mr.  Barnes  and  myself  had  been 
wandering,  and  gazing  together  upon  the  statuary,  and  mosaic  portraits 
that  adorn  this  splendid  edifice,  when  1  descried,  at  a  distance,  a  seated 
image,  which  1  took  to  be  the  &mous  statue  of  St.  Peter.  We 
approached  it  together,  both  impressed  with  the  striking  resemblance 
it  bears  to  the  statue  of  Jupiter,  as  represented  by  the  ancient  pagans. 
I  had  been  handling  the  foot  of  the  image,  and  looking  at  the  manner 
in  which  its  great^toe  had  been  smoothed  off  and  worn  away.  We 
were  conversing  on  the  subject,  and  wondering  if  it  were  not  the 
famous  pagan  idol  of  Jupiter — or,  as  Dean  Swifl  says,  JeW'Peier^ — ^and 
had  just  stepped  aside  from  it,  when  a  priest  came  forward,  rubbed  his 
hand  over  its.  foot,  as  if  to  cleanse  it ;  then  kneeling,  kissed  it ;  and 
having  pressed  his  forehead  against  it,  passed  forward  to  the  place 
near  the  center,  before  the  great  altar,  where  they  keep  lamps  perpet- 
ually burning,  around  the  reported  tomb  of  the  apostle.  Whether 
the  priest  meant  slyly  to  rebuke  our  want  of  reverence,  or  to  signify 
that  our  touch,  in  his  estimation,  was  unclean ;  or  whether  such  was 
hb  general  and  natural  idea  of  cleanliness,  that  he  took  care  to  protect 
his  own  skin  from  the  foul  touch  of  others,  before  he  kissed  it,  we 
were  not  prepared  to  say.  There  was  certainly  nothing  in  his  looks 
or  manner,  which  seemed  to  have  any  particular  reference  to  us. 
Most  probably  his  actions  were  but  the  ordinary  forms  of  adoration 
be  paid  to  this  idol ;  for  I  observed  that  others,  afler  him,  who  had 
not  seen  us  handle  the  feet  of^the  image,  did  precisely  the  same  thing, 
— ^while  some  at  once  kissed  it  and  passed  on. 

The  position  and  history  of  this  image  is  worthy  of  notice.  It  is 
mtuated  on  the  right  side  of  the  nave,  agiunst  the  last  pier, 
oounting    from     the    entrance, — and    opposite    the    Confessional. 


9H  NOTES  or  FOREKHff  TRAVEL. 

K  ooni^stB  of  bronze,  and  is  in  a  sitting  postare,  with  ^ 
]4ght  foot  extended.  Some  antiquaries  affirm  that  it  was  i^e^sast,  hf 
St.  Leo,  from  the  old  bronze  statue  of  Jupiter  Gapitolinus.  Otberfir 
affirm  it  to  be  that  identical  statue  itself,  transformed,  without  a  sec- 
ond flux  or  casting,  into  that  of  the  apostle,  simply  by  the  mandate  o^ 
Ae  Pope.  The  attitude,  certainly,  corresponds  witli  diat  of  Jufdter' 
Gapitolinus,  as  we  see  it  represented  on  medals  still  extant ;  and  its 
general  resemblance,  as  well  as  the  tradition  on  the  subject,  fumisbes 
more  ground  than  the  mere  playful  wit  of  Swift  for  his  pun  upon  tibe 
name.    The  Jupiter  of  liie  pagans  is  the  Jew-Peter  of  the  papists. 

In  the  tribune,  which  is  not  far  removed  from  it,  and  highly  deco- 
rated, is  the  famous  chair  of  bronze,  called  the  chair  of  5S?.  PtteTy  said 
to  enclose  the  very  diair  in  which,  as  the  papal  tradition  relates,  St 
'  Peter  and  his  successors  officiated.  The  bronze  covering  is  ftdl  of 
ridiculous  conceits.  One  of  the  small  chapels  on  the  side  of  die  hlgb 
altar — ^that  called  Capel  la  della  Colonna  Santa — stakes  its  name  from 
a  column  contained  in  it,  which  is  said  to  have  been  brought  fhmi  the 
Temple  at  Jerusalem,  and  to  be  the  identical  one  against  whidi  the 
Saviour  leaned,  when  he  disputed  with  the  doctors ! 

Opon  returning  to  our  hotel,  letters  for  myself  and  my  fellow  trav- 
dler,  Mr.  W.,  were  delivered  from  the  American  Consul ;  and  while 
my  heart  was  made  glad  in  receiving  "  good  news  from  a  far  country,** 
and  hearing  of  the  well-being  of  my  family, — ^his  was  overwhelmed 
with  grief,  by  receiving  intelligence  of  the  death  of  his  little  and  only 
sister. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

October  IBth.  The  principal  part  of  this  day  has  been  occupied  in 
visiting  the  great  Basilica  of  St.  Peter.  It  is  the  diief  one  of  seven 
churches,  which,  in  this  city,  bear  the  name  of  Basilicse.  This  is  the 
name  that  was  given,  toward  the  decline  of  the  Roman  Empire,  to  the 
seats  of  the  public  tribunals  or  courts  of  justice.  Upon  the  renunda- 
tion  of  pagan  idolatry,  on  the  part  of  the  Emperor  and  the  nation  at 
ktrge,  they  became  places  of  public  worship.  I  suppose,  very  naturally 
in  some  such  way  as  I  have  seen,  in  our  own  country  towns,  the 
court-house  used  for  church  purposes,  until  the  relif^ous  portion  of 
Ae  community  became  able  to  build  houses  for  themselves.  Subse- 
quently, the  houses  erected  fbr  church  purposes  were  built  upon  IImt 


TH18  BttLDHri^t  OV  Bf.  PKttflPa  ^ 

j^Ian  of  those  previoiaslj-existing  edifices,  and  some,  perhaps,  on  their 
^tes.  They  were  of  a  simple  and  appropriate  design,  and  were  of  an 
oblong  form-— comprising  a  nave,  or  principal  area,  fbr  the  room  of 
flodience,  io  which,  on  each  side,  was  attached  an  aisle,  separated  from 
il  only  hj  a  row  of  columns.  From  these  columns  arches  sprang, 
#hich  supported  high  walls,  sustaining  a  wooden  roof.  These  walk 
Were  pierced  with  windows,  through  which  the  light  entered  the 
biiilding  and  fell  below.  The  aisles  were  properly  one-story  append- 
ices at  the  side  of  the  nave,  while  it  was  carried  up  a  story  higher. 
Hie  original  church  of  St.  Peter  had  all  the  peculiarities  of  the  basil- 
ieai,  which  have  been  preserved  in  the  structure  of  the  present  magnif 
<tot  temple. 

ft  is  claimed  by  tradition,  that,  as  early  as  A.  D.  90,  Anacletus,  one 
of  the  early  pastors  of  the  Christian  church  in  Rome, — affirmed  to 
harve  been  ordained  by  Peter  the  Apostle— erected  an  oratory  on  the 
site  of  the  present  building,  to  marii^the  spot  where  the  Apostie  Fetor, 
ftftef  his  crucifixion,  was  interred.  Many  early  christians  had  there 
aS»e  suffered  martyrdom.  After  the  conversion  of  tiie  Emperor  Con- 
^tantinCj  a  basilica  was  built  upon  the  spot,  which  became  an  object  of 
aijtraction.  The  jflront  appearance  of  this  building  is  preserved  in  the 
fresco  paintings  of  Raphael,  representing  the  Incendio  del  Borgo  fli!kd 
tlie  Coronation  of  Charles  the  great.  By  the  year  1450,  it  had  fUlen 
into  ruin,  and  Pope  Nicholas  V.  had  commenced  a  new  and  more' 
extensive  building.  It  was  continued  slowly  by  Paul  H.,  but  wad 
prosecuted  more  rapidly  by  Julius  II.,  half  a  century  after  its  com- 
ihencement.  Changes  took  place  as  to  its  plan,  and  the  work  wa» 
prosecuted  still  with  vigour  by  Leo  X.,  although  embarrassed  by  the 
early  death  of  the  two  great  architects  he  had  appointed — SangaQo 
and  Raphael. 

The  raising  of  money  for  this  costly  temple,  about  this  time,  by 
tlie  sale  of  indulgences,  was  among  the  causes,  and  presented  the 
cJCcasion,  that  led  to  the  glorious  Reformation,  by  means  of  Luther 
9tAd^  his  co-adjutant  reformers.  Its  progress  was  also  checked  by  the 
death  of  this  flagitious  and  atheistical  pope,  in  1521.  It  slowly 
advanced  under  Clement  VII.,  and  upon  the  accession  of  Paul  III. 
After  the  death  of  his  two  principal  architects,  Michael  Angelo,  at  die 
figp  of  72,  was  appointed — who  remodelled  the  building,  returning  to 
tibe  design  of  Bramante,  a  century  and  a  half  previously  adopted,  and, 
restoring  the  plan  of  the  Greek  cross,  enlai^ed  the  tribune  and  tran- 
^iepts,  strengthehed  the  piers,  and  schemed  the  erection  of  the  dome-— 
declaring  Chat  ''he  wonld  elevate  tiie  Pantheon  in  the  air.**  Hist 
p^satt  temple  of  idotatry  for  pagans— stiU  standing  ki  Rome,  thougll 


|M  KOTRS  OF  FOREiaN  TRilYKU 

oonverted  into  one  for  papists, — ^rested  on  its  solid  foundation  in  the 
ground.  The  temple  of  papal  idolatry  must  be  surmounted  by  the 
Pantheon,  raised  alofb  in  the  air ! 

This  renowned  architect  lived  till  he  had  attained  the  age  of 
eighty-nine,  and  long  enough  to  secure  the  completion  of  his 
work  by  his  successors,  upon  the  yery  plans  and  measurements 
he  had  drawn.  The  dome  was  not  completed  till  A.  D.  1590, 
in  the  pontificate  of  Sixtus  V.,  who  devoted  100,000  crowns  annually, 
and  employed  600  workmen  niffht  and  day  upon  it.  It  was  estimated 
that^  when  completed,  there  had  been  30,000  pounds  weight  of  iron 
used  in  its  construction.  The  mosaics  of  the  interior  part  of  the  dome 
were  "*a;  munijicentia^^  by  the  magnificence  of  Clement  VIII.  In 
tlie  beginning  of  the  next  century,  Paul  V.  (Borghese)  pulled  down 
the  remaining  part  of  the  old  basilica  left  standing,  and  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  the  new  front.  The  plan  of  Michael  Angelo  was  abandoned, 
and  the  architect  returned  to  that  of  the  Latin  cross,  originally  de- 
signed by  Kaphael.  He  built  the  /acade,  also,  but  upon  a  plan  con- 
demned by  critics,  as  unsuitable  to  the  original  (lesign,  and  calculated 
to  conceal  the  dome,  by  preventing,  from  any  part  of  the  piazza,  a 
view  of  it^  combined  in  its  full  proportions  with  the  rest  of  the  got^ 
geous  structure. 

The  nave,  the  facade,  with  its  heavy  balcony,  whence  th^ 
papal  benediction  is  pronounced,  and  the  portico,  being  com-* 
pleted,  on  the  13tb  of  November,  1626,  the  temple  was  dedicated  by 
Pope  Urban  VIII. — having  been  171  years  in  the  process  of  erection. 
Should  the  works  of  Pius  VL  be  included,  its  progjress  to  perfection 
will  be  found  to  have  extended  through  a  period  of  three  centuries  and 
a  half,  and  been  prosecuted  under  the  reigns  of  as  many  as  forty -three 
popes !  Under  Julius  II.  and  Leo  X.,  the  expenses  were  so  great,  that 
the  sale  of  indulgences,  licensing  the  commission  of  crime,  was  exten- 
uvely  prosecuted  throughout  Ekirope.  I  could  not  help  thinking,  as 
I  gazed  upon  the  splendid  and  stupendous  pile,  how  immense  has  been 
the  amount  which  human  wickedness  and  corruption  have  contributed 
toward  its  erection !  And  what  an  awful  affront  against  Heaven  har^ 
been  perpetrated  by  the  robberies,  and  murders,  and  parricidal  deeda;. 
the  adulteries,  seductions  of  innocence,  infanticides  and  nameless  acta 
of  in&my  and  crime,  licensed  by  the  sale  of  indulgences,  in  which  "  the 
in&Uible "  head  of  the  papal  apostasy,  by  his  agents,  trafficked,  to* 
replenish  his  coffers,  and  rear  the  mighty  structure,  it  is  an  awfuU 
monument  of  crime.  God  has  forewarned  us  coneerning  these  "  false 
propheta,'.'  who,  ^'  through  covetousness,  with  feigned  words,  make 
merchandise  of  men's  sins;  that  their  judgment  now  of  a  long  time 


COST  AKD  DMENnONa  SW 

■  I  ■       I  I  ■  mmimi^tmi^m^-^^       i         ■  i  ■     i  p         i  ■  i  ■■  ■     ■   ii^^M^^i— ^^pi^^^— ^^>— .^^mm^^ 

*■■        I  ■  ■■  ■  ■!         !<■    ™    ■■    .^.i.*  >  1  »  m     m»  I  ■  ■■■  ■■■-  ■■■!  iiiiwai   m^^   —  m^m^^m^m^^^^ 

IlDgereth  not|  and  their  damnation  slumberetb  not."  (2  Peter — ^2,  8.) 
Betribntion  may  sleep,  apparently,  for  centuries,  but  it  will  be  sure  to 
awake  and  come  with  desolation. 

The  great  temple  of  St.  Peter  covers  a  space  of  some  240,000 
square  feet,  or  about  six  acres.  Its  expense,  at  the  close  of  the  17th 
century,  was  estimated  to  have  been  nearly  fifty  millions  of  dollars, 
exdusive  of  the  sacristy,  bell  towers,  models,  mosaics,  &c.,  &a 
Some  $30,000  a  year  are  expended  for  superintendance,  repairs,  &e. 
A  semicircular  range  of  columns,  of  travertine  marble,  284  in  num- 
'ber,  besides  64  pilasters,  form  a  colonnade  on  either  hand,  in  front  of 
the  basilica,  which  has  been  so  contrived  as  to  conceal  the  buildings 
on  each  side  of  the  piazza.  There  are  four  rows  of  columns,  60  feet 
wide  and  61  feet  high,  and  so  arranged  as  to  leave  room  sufficient^  be- 
tween  the  inner  rows,  for  the  passage  of  two  carriages  abreast.  On 
tiie  entablature,  there  are  192  statues  of  saints,  of  the  same  stone,  each 
twelve  feet  in  height.  The  colonnades  are  connected  with  two  covered 
galleries,  360  feet  long  and  23  broad,  communicating  with  the  vesti- 
bule of  St.  Peter's.  Statues  of  Peter  and  Paul  stand  at  the  angle  of 
the  first  flight  df  steps ;  and,  in  the  piazza  in  front,  two  beautiful  foun- 
tains throw  up  their  volumes  of  water,  from  simple  vases,  to  the 
height  of  18  feet,  which,  &lling  back  into  a  basin  of  oriental  granite, 
fifteen  feet  in  diameter,  runs  over  its  sides  into  another  and  octagonal 
basin  of  travertine,  of  about  28  feet  in  diameter.  The  jets  rise  to  the 
height  of  sixty  feet  above  the  pavement  of  the  piazza,  and  form  amass 
of  spray,  In  which  rainbows  sport  before  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun. 

The  Facade  of  the  building  is  also  of  travertine.  It  is  353  feet  long 
and  145  feet  high,  showing  three  stories,  and  an  attic  with  eight  col- 
umns and  four  pilasters  of  the  Corinthian  order.  Each  story  has  nine 
windows,  but  is  disfigured  by  the  heavy  balconies  from  which  the 
pope  at  Easter  pronounces  his  annual  blessing,  followed  with  the  roar 
of  canon,  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  the  shouts  of  the  people.  The  col- 
umns are  upwards  of  eight  feet  in  diameter  and  ninety-ono  feet  high, 
including  the  capitals.  Thirteen  colossal  statues  seventeen  feet  high, 
I'epresenting  the  Savior,  and  the  twelve  apostles,  adorn  the  attia  The 
^rbole  seems  to  be  in  bad  keeping  with  the  simple  grandeur  of  the 
dome,  and  to  be  better  suited  to  a  palace  than  a  temple. 

There  are  five  open  entrances  leading  into  the  vestibule,  which  is 
439  feet  long,  65  feet  high  and  47  broad.  An  equestrian  statue  occa- 
l^es  each  extremity — the  one  of  Constantine,  and  the  other  of  CSiarle- 
mf^e,  but  neither  worthy  of  notice  or  of  the  place,  as  works  of  art. 

A  Mosaic  Tablet  over  the  entrance  in  the  centre,  oppositelthe  great 
door,  -i^prcsents  Peter  walking  on  the  sea,  sustuned  by  the  Savior. 


4ffa  scam  or  VGf/EiQv  tej^tek 

>!■■■■  I    ■  1^  ■■         ■    ■  I  ■  ■  I        ■        ■         _4  ■■■■■■     ■!■       ,^— ^^ 

It  Uiuid  to  bebetweeafiyeaDd  9ix  hundred  years  old,  bavipg  belong^ 
lip  the  old  basilica.  It  faais  suffered  much  from  time,  remoyak  and  f^ 
pairs.  Five  doors  corresponding  with  the  entrances  of  tbe  yestibid^ 
.Idad  into  the  basilica.  Those  of  the  centre  are  maflsive  broij^ze  fiom 
the  old  building,  and  are  only  opened  on  great  festivals.  The  martyr- 
dom of  P^ter  and  Paul  is  represented  in  tfie  bas  reliefs  of  some  of  th,e 
copipartments ;  also  some  historical  events  in  the  life  of  Eugeniu^  IV^, 
the  coronation  of  Sigismund,  and  the  Council  of  Floreuse.  The  bOA 
reljj^fs  of  the  frame  works  are  from  the  old  P3gft0  mythology.  Among 
tihem  I  was  disgusted  in  noticing  satyrs,  nymphs,  eta;  but  eapepalljr* 
the  abominable  and  filthy  representations,  of  Leda  reoeiving  thp  q^ 
ress^  of  Jupiter  in  the  shape  of  a  swan,  and  of  the  rape  of  Ganym^- 
What  a  aight  for  the  door-way  of  entrance  to  the  great  temple  of  JRo- 
man  Gatholifss !  Verily,  '^  the  Idolatry  and  gross  lasciviousQeas  of 
Popery  and  paganiam  here  blended,  are  fitly  symbolized  by  sui^ 
ihingfs! 

The  bull  of  Bonifa^  VJII,  in  1300,  granting  iadnlgenoe  ftt 
every  recurrence  of  the  Romish  Jubilee,  a  festival  intended  to  draw 
visitors  to  the  churches  of  St  Petw  and  Paul,  is  inscribed  near  this 
door-way.  On  the  Christmas  eve  of  this  jubilee,  one  of  the  adjoiniz^ 
doors,  which  is  walled  up  and  marked  by  a  cross,  is  pulled  down  by 
the  pope  in  person,  who  commences  the  demolition  by  striking  it  three 
times  with  a  silver  hammer — one  of  the  great  p^eants  to  attract  f(fid 
please  the  gaping  crowds ! 

I  presume  not  to  criticise  or  even  to  describe  the  inter|or  of  this 
great  temple  of 'the  Roman  Catholic  world.  •The  admirable  propor- 
tions observed  throughout,  and  their  unity,  fill  every  beholder  with 
satisfaction,  whether  he  knows,  or  does  not,  the  reason  of  it.  They  are 
so  perfect,  that  you  are  not  at  first  impressed  with  the  magnitude  of 
the  building.  It  is  <mly  after  traversing  the  immense  area,  and  exam- 
ining the  colossal  statues  that  adorn  its  walls  and  piers,  that  you 
begin*  to  appreciate  the  gigantic  scale  upon  which  it  has  been  built. 
An  army  of  50,000  soldiers  might  be  marched  into  it,  and  leave  qaaoe 
enough,  for  Uie  ritual  services  to  be  perform^ed  in  the  various  chapds 
that  line  its  aisles,  ^ 

There  is  a  line  drawn  on  the  pavement  of  the  nave,  which  marks  i^ 
length,  and  that  of  five  other  churches,  viz :  St.  PauPs  in  London,  the 
Cathedral  of  Milan,  St.  Paul's  in  Rome,  and  St  Sophia  in  Con8taa|^ 
nople.  That  of  St  Peter's  is  given  at  837  palms,  which  reduced  to 
English  inches,  makes  it  613  feet,  the  largest  by  &r  of  all  the  great 
templeS|  in  the  world  at  this  day.-  The  height  of  the  nave  near  the 
dpor  is  153  feet,  and  its  width  90.    The  width  of  the  aislf»  is  21  feet| 


.||g4  A^  height47;  and  the  length  of  the  traDsepte,  froaa  one  end  to 
the  other  450  feet  The  baldachino  or  grent  canopy  oovering  the  U^ 
|i^r  riees  94  feet  The  diameter  of  the  cupola  is  195  feet  induding 
the  wall,  and  the  height  of  the  domBy  from  the  pavement  to  the  top  of 
the  croes,  ia  4M  feet  Five  massive  pieoea  support  feur  arches,  whidi 
.aqparate  the  nave  from  the  aisles*  Two  Corinthian  pilaatres  of  stuocp, 
with  nitohes  between  them,  containing  oolossal  statues  of  the  foyndeiyi 
indifferent  religious  orders,  adorn  the  feee  of  each  pier.  The  wai)# 
and  piers,  excepting  the  pilaatres,  are  veneered  with  plates  of  marble, 
.mid  richly  ornamented  with  medallions  and  various  sculpture.  The 
pi^Tement  is  marble.  The  vases  for  the  holy  water  are  supported  hj 
qberubs,  which,  at  first  view,  appear  to  be  of  the  ordinary  infim^ijf^ 
siae,  being  so  well  adjusted  in  their  proportions  to  the  otl^r  parts  qf 
the  building.  It  is  only  upon  approaching  them  and  finding  they  are 
fiill  aiz  feet  high,  that  you  foim  an  adequate  idea  of  the  immense  8ori^ 
of  the  building. 

The  vault  of  the  dome,  resting  on  four  oolossal  piers,  appeared,  in  my 
eye,  to  be  the  most  magnificent  part  of  the  edifice.  An  outer  cupola 
oovers  it,  between  which  th^  stair  case  leads  to  the  summit  lliereare 
two  nitches  in  each  pier,  one  over  the  other,  in  which  are  placed  stat- 
ues of  saints.  1  noticed  in  the  lower  ones  those  of  St  Vercmica  hold- 
ing the  sudarium,  or  handkerchief  wherewith  Bomish  tradition  reports 
die  wiped  the  sweat  off  the  Savior's  fiice-— of  St  Helena  the  Empreap 
of  Rome  and  mother  of  Constantine  with  the  cross,  which  '^  the  lying 
hUM^  of  Komanism  represent  her  to  have  found  as  late  as  in  the  4th 
century — St.  Longinus,  said  to  be  the  Roman  soldier  who  pierced  thp 
Saviour's  side  with  a  spear — and  of  St  Andrew— each  sixteen  feet 
high.  Above  these  statues,  are  foui;  balconies,  containing  the  relics  of 
the  respective  saints — ^the  handkerchief  of  St  Veronica,  on  which  they 
pretend  to  show  the  impression  of  the  Savior's  features,  and  which  from 
aloft  is  exhibited  to  the  people  with  so  much  parade  and  ceremony 
during, "  the  holy  week," — a  portion  of  the  true  cross — the  head  of  St. 
Andrew*  and  the  spear  of  St.  Longinus.  None,  however,  but  eanons  of 
tiie  church  are  allowed  to  visit  or  approach  these  relics.  There  are 
spiral  columns  in  the  nitches,  said  to  have  been  brought  by  the  Em- 

««*Iii  March,  1848/'  Mysanoteln  BlenaiU*!  account  of  Rome,  **thiM  roUcof  81.  Andmr 
«Meh  WM  brought  from  the  PeloponneDes,  In  1488  (nine yean  after  the  taking  of  OonetaDUaopta), 
bf  Oardlnal  Bcflearion,  and  depoiiled  In  the  dM  banUeue  by  Pope  Piiie  I,  ioUh  kit  own  kamt*,  wia 
•Men  from  ite  baloonj  by  lome  one,  who  was  erldeatly  familiar  with  the  internal  ariangemeot 
of  St.  Octos.  The  popular  belief  was,  that  the  Emperor  of  Anstrla,  or  the  Emperor  of  Hoaila 
kad  lemethlng  to  do  with  the  affUr.  The  Pope  was  deeply  affect«d  by  the  laerUege;  reUglooa 
let  vitee  were  ordered,  and  a  reward  of  600  soiidi  was  offered  to  any  one,  not  excepting  the . 
voiprlt,  for  the  rccoTery.  Independent  of  its  sanctity,  it  had  a  value  of  another  kind,  for  it  is 
Ineloscd  In  a  silver  vest  set  with  jewels,  the  valoe  of  which  has  been  estknated  at  18,000  scodirr- 
<one  soadl  Is  a  few  cents  less  than  one  dollar,  or  four  shillings  and  four  and  three-qparter  penoe, 
Jhiglitfi  money.)  It  was  at  last  found,  Mth  the  Jewels  detached,  bat  deposited  near  It,  buried  In 
•tht«rtb  b«)r«id  the  Porta  St.  PommbIo;  the  secrsi  Is  said  to  have  been  revsalsd-  ihroogh  tiko 


400  NOTES  OF  FORBIGK  TRATSL 

peror  Titus  from  Jerusalem.  Mosaic  repreaeotatioDS  of  the  four  Evm- 
gelists  adorn  the  spandrils  of  the  arches  above  the  nitchea;  and 
fJthough,  to  look  at  them,  they  appear  tabe  of  the  mttiiral  and  ordi« 
nary  size,  jet  it  is  said  that  the  pen  in  the  hand  of  St.  Mark^  is  six  feet 
long.  We  ascended  and  entered  by  the  gallery  around  the  drum  or 
base  of  the  dome,  examined  closely  the  mosaic  figures  and  gilded  stuc- 
coes which  represent  the  Savior,  the  virgin  and  some  saints,  and  which 
adorn  the  sixteen  compartments  of  the  great  concave  above.  The 
stones  composing  the  mosaic  work  were  nearly,  if  not  folly,  an  indi 
square.  They  were  not  closely  set,  and  yet  from  below  they  had  the 
appearance  of  rich  painting.  As  I  looked  down  from  the  gallery  to  the 
pavement  below,  the  height  appeared  to  be  immense.  On  the  ceiling 
of  the  dome  or  lantern  is  a  large  mosaic  representation  of  the  Father 
Almighty,  which  crowns,  as  it  were,  the  monstrous  impiety  of  the 
whole.  The  baldacchino  below,  on  which  the  eye  of  the  figure  seems 
to  fall,  is  said  to  contain  some  186,000  pounds  of  solid  bronze,  strip- 
ped from  the  Pantheon  by  Urban  VIII.  Its  gilding  alone  is  said  to 
have  cost  upwards*  of  $100,00^.  The  high  altar  beneath  this  goigeoua 
canopy,  stands  immediately  over  what  is  called  the  grave  of  St  Peter, 
and  is  only  used,  on  solemn  occasions,  when  the  Pope  himself  ofiiciates 
in  the  ceremonies.  The  Confessional  is  surrounded  with  a  circular 
balustrade  of  marble,  and  from  it  are  suspended  112  lamps,  which  are 
constantly  kept  burning  day  and  night  A  double  flight  of  steps  leads 
down  into  the  shrine,  where  a  statue  by  Caoya  represents  Pius  VL, 
kneeling  befo;*e  the  tomb  of  the  apostle.  Several  popes  and  persons 
of  distinction,  lie  buried  in  the  subterranean  chapel  here,  and  .among 
them  the  last  representative  of  the  royal  line  of  Stuart,  so  justly  ex- 
pelled from  England  for  their  popish  predilections  and  idolatry,  viz : 
James  III.,  Charles  III.,  and  Henry  IX. 

•oofeMlooAU  The  Jadtcial  inyeiilgation  wm  Uierefore  superceded.  Piue  L  toept  for  Joj  whes  li 
VM  bronghi  and  given  Into  his  own  bands  t  The  event  was  announced  to  the  clUaens  bj  Ite 
OanUnal  Voice :  all  the  bells  In  Rome  rung  a  Joyous  peal  for  half  an  hour  after  the  Ave  Btarie; 
Uke  cupola  of  St.  Peter's  was  Illuminated ;  and  by  a  spontaneous  act  of  the  people,  90  was  the 
whole  cKy.  Te  J>&um  was  sung  the  next  day  at  St.  Andrew  della  Talle  and  at  St.  Peter*s ;  and 
on  the  6tn  day  of  April,  in  the  following  week,  the  relic  was  carried  from  the  former  to  the  tatter 
ohnrch  In  a  procession  equally  vast  and  magnificent  with  that  of  the  CorpUt  Domini.  All  Iho 
ecclesiastical  colleges,  religious  orders,  chapters  of  barillcas,  parochial  c\ergy  preened  the 
gorgeous  shrine  borne  by  the  cannons  of  the  Vatldan.  The  relic  was  placed  in  a  glass  colllnoa 
a  kind  of  car,  and  a  wide  silk  canopy  supported  over  It,  after  which  walked  *  his  holiness,*  followed 
by  the  sacred  college,  the  senate,  the  Roman  fMenda,  the  members  of  all  the  Gorlnl,  and  (a  new 
feature  in  such  solemnities)  a  processiou  of  noble  ladles,  all  In  black,  with  laee  rails  over  tfieir 
CMeSt  and  carrying  tapers,  as  did  the  rest.  The  noble  guard,  the  mnnloipallty,  and  all  the  mili- 
tary In  Rome,  brought  up  the  rear.  In  St.  Peter*s  his  holiness  gave  the  bencdtetioD,  wHh  th» 
TClle,  and  at  night  another  Ulumlnatton,  both  of  the  city  and  St.  Peter's,  took  place,  which  wM 
•tUl  more  hriiUant  than  the  last." 

What  Intelligent  Protestant  can  read  such  an  account  and  not  at  truly  pity  the  dc«radaUoB  «f 
a  people  that  can  be  guilty  of  such  credulity  and  superstitious  Idolatry,  as  severely  oeasnre  Oie 
high  dignitaries  that  so  religiously  solemnised  the  whole  pageant  of  delusion.  The  skull  mi# 
have  been  that  of  any  other  man,  and  more  likely,  than  of  St.  Andrews.  Let  these  rello  ftodcri 
and  Idolaters  give  the  evidence  of  Identity.  Fourteen  oenturies  after  a  roan's  death  la  a  vary 
long  time  tot  the  IdenUfleatlon  of  such  a  perishable  material  as  the  human  skulL  That  ft  it  01. 
.Andrew's  aredal  pedous  apella,  noa  ego,  Ipt  plo  nono  raoti  have  bellflved  H  or.  mtBttoaad  a 
wUhed  imposition.  I  should  as  little  respect  his  Intelligence  Id  the  former  ease,  as  hit  inttgrllif  !■ 
the  latter.    Yet  this  formed  one  of  the  grand  pageaatt  of  tht  reign  of  the  prcttnt  Pope. 


ITEAMI]); 


LAND  07  THS  FTEAiODa  401 


LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


ST  WABBS9  ISBiilL 


. . '  .  OHAPTBE  XUL 

TA<  Farekmeni  JRoU  again^ — Advent  of  Jacob  cmd  his  Family  to  Egypt, — Greai 
change  since  Abrdham^s  visit,  a  few  years  hefbrer^Fharaoh  noi  drowned  w  the  Bsd 
jSSpo, — ^Frolwblythe  Pharaoh  Uiat  "knew  not  Joeepb," — other  Ktngs^ — (he con- 
iiuerors  of  Egypt,  etc 

I  bave  spcAeii  of  the  piitrchment  found  in  a  retired  apartment  of  the 
^gneat.tei4i.ple.at.Abydo«,  on  which  was  inscribed  a  list  of  the  ancient 
kings  of  Egypt,  the  immediate  predecessors  of  Sesostris,  who 
yeign^d  thirteen  hmKbred  years  before  Christ  I  have  also  said,  that, 
with  the  aid  of  this  and  other  documents,  Champollion  and  his  coadj- 
utors have  been  enabled  to  t^race  the  long  line  of  Egyptian  monarchs, 
-in  distinct  dynasties,  back  to  the  reign  of  Menes. 

But  to  fix  the  reign  of  this  monarch  has  been  found  a  difficult  task, 
the  later  investigators  carrying  it  back  thirty  to  thirty-five,  and  one 
•VMi  to  fifty  centuries  before  the  christian  era,  which,  if  correct, 
tbiowa  us  upon  the  Septuagent  version  cf  the  Scriptures  as  furnishing 
the  true  chronology*  The  result  has  been,  however,  to  inspire  more 
omfidence  in  ancient  Egyptian  annals,. which  have  been  supposed  to  be 
&bulou8,  and  which  trace  back  the  royal  line  of  succession  to  Mizra- 
im,  the  second  son  of  Ham.  There  4s  enough,  indeed,  that  is  truly 
fabulous,  and  this  has  doubtless  served  to  throw  discredit  upon 
genuine  history.  Such  is  the  tale  of  the  regal  gods,  who  ruled  ov^r 
%ypt  6000  years. 

Burt  with  all  this  uncertainty  of  dates,  much  has  been  brought  to 
Ught,  and  many  points  of  coincidence  between  Egyptian  and  Israelitish 
history  disclosed. 

Tlie  &ct  mentioned  in  Genesis,  in  connection  with  the  advent  of 
Jacob  and  his  family  to  Egypt,  and  also  in  other  passages,  that  Shep- 
herds were  at  that  time  "an  abomination  to  the  Egyptians,"  is 
explained  by  a  passage  in  Manetho,  the  Egyptian  historian,  wherein 
we  are.  told  that  Egypt  was  overrun  and  conquered  by  pastoral  tribes, 
who  left  behind  them  after  their  expulsion,  a  deep  rooted  prejudice  in 
the  minds  of  the  people  against  the  whole  shepherd  race.     Numerous 

VOL.  I,  NO.  VIII. — 24. 


40a  IiAin>  Of  THfe  FTRAlUBa 

memorials  also  attest  the  reign  of  the  shepherd  kings.  Indeed,  it  is 
almost  certain,  that,  during  their  dynasty,  the  great  pyramids  weie 
commenced,  about  2100  years  before  CEhrist.  That  they  were  erected 
by  kings  of  foreign  sympathies,  who  were  hostile  to  the  religion  of  the 
country,  is  manifest  from  Herodotus,  who  says  distinctiy,  that  the 
Egyptians  were  most  cruelly  oi^ressed  by  those,  who  constructed 
these  monuments,  for  one  hundred  and  six  years,  not  being  suffered  to 
enter  their  temples,  or  to  offer  sacrifices  to  their  gods,  and  at  the  same 
time  being  compelled  to  do  the  work  of  slaves  in  thdr  eredaon. 
This  would  all  be  inexplicable,  but  for  the  key  furnished  by  Manetho. 

But  there  was  none  of  this  feeling  when  Abram  visited  Egypt,  2077 
before  Christ,  and  which  was  but  a  few  years  before.  On  the  contra- 
ry,  as  a  shepherd,  he  received  magnificent  presents  of  flocks,  and 
herds  from  Pharaoh. 

By  the  time  Jacob  and  his  fSunily  arrived,  however,  there  was  a 
change ;   the  hated  shepherd  kings  had  been  expelled,  and  the  vefjr 
.  name  of  shepherd  was  an  abomination  to  the  Egyptians. 

That  ^^new  king'^  that  ^*knew  not  Joseph,*'  is  thought,  wHh 
good  reason,  to  have  been  the  first  of  a  new  dynasty,  who  tnuM- 
ferred  the  government  from  Lower  to  Upper  Egypt,  and  established 
it  at  Thebes,  some  1600  years  before  Christ,  when  Cherbron,  Tliodmies 
I,  n,  and  III,  and  Amenoph,  or  Menmon  reigned,  under  whom  the 
magnificent  temples  of  Thebes,  which  bear  their  names,  were  doubtless 
built  It  was  under  the  reign  of  these  sovereigns,  that  the  Israelites 
were  reduced  to  servitude,  and  under  one  of  them,  supposed  to  be 
Thothmes  III,  that  their  deliverance  was  wrought.  This  dynasty, 
being  strangers  to  Joseph,  and  the  Hebrews,  would  naturally  confound 
them  with  the  few  of  their  former  shepherd  conquerors,  who  remained 
in  the  country,  and,  as  a  very  natural  act  of  retaliation,  reduced  them 
all  to  bondage  together.  The  deliverance  of  the  Israelites  was  effected 
about  the  year  1499  before  Christ,  and  the  position  is  maintained  by 
some  (Wilkinson  and  other  Egyptian  scholars  of  late),  that  Pharaoh 
was  not  himself  drowned,  but  sat  in  his  chariot  upon  the  height, 
covered  with  shame  and  confusion  to  see  his  hosts  overthrown  in  the 
sea  before  his  eyes,  while  the  Israelites  escaped.  Some  discoveries 
have  been  made  which  lead  to  the*  belief  that  he  returned  and  reigned 
many  years  aflerwards,  which  is  all  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
account  given  in  Exodus ;  nay,  this  view  of  the  result  is  thought  to 
make  the  scene  there  recorded  still  more  impressive. 

Of  the  long  line  of  monarchs  which  followed,  but  few  are  at  all 
conspicuous.  There  was  Moeris,  who  died  1309  years  before  Christy 
and    Sesostris,  his  son  who  succeeded  him,  the  former  being. as 

I 


THE  OOl^QUBRBBS  0?  SaTFT.  403 

m 

reuowBe^  for  his  useful  labors  at  h^me,  as  fih^  latter  was  for  his  mili- 
tarj  ^r^doits  abroad  y  the  one  eoustructing  the  lake  which  bears  I^s 
name,  to  receive  aad  discharge  the  waters  of  the  Nile,  and  the  other 
ravagiug  all  Asia  with  his  arma.  The  accounts  given  of  the  victories 
of  the  latter,  stigmatized  by  some  as  fabulous,  are  confirmed  by  Hero- 
dotus and  Strabo,  who  saw  monuments  iu  yarious  countries  they 
visited,,  with  this  inscription  upon  them :  ^'  Sesostris  conquered  this 
country  by  his  arms." 

I  have  elsewhere  spoken  of  the  portraiture  of  Shishak,  the  conqueror 
of  Rehoboam,  upon  the  wall  of  the  great  temple  of  Kamac  The 
name  of  Hrhakah,  the  Ethiopian  conqueror  of  Egypt,  mentioned  by 
hiuah,  has  also  been  made  out       j 

About  the  year  769  before  Christ,  Egypt  was  conquered  by  Sabeaon, 
an  Ethiopian  king,  who  reigned  over  it  fifty  years.  Fifly-eight  years 
afterwards,  Sennecharib,  the  Assyrian,  invaded  Egypt.  Soon  after, 
the  regal  gpveromeidt  was  discarded,  and  governors  were  substituted, 
whose  administration  lasted  fifteen  years.  Then  followed  the  reign  of 
Pharaoh  Necho,  who  sacked  Jerusidem,  and  slew  JosiaL  Shortly 
after,  &S5  years  before  Christ,  the  great  Cyrus  extended  his  conquering 
arms  to  Egypt  Ten  years  afterward  followed  Camybses,  his  suc- 
cessor, who  effectually  subjugated  the  country,  which  continued  under 
Persian  rule  for  more  than  a  century,  the  latter  part  of  which  period, 
450  years  before  Christ,  was  distinguished  by  the  visit  of  the  great 
•  Greek  historian,  Herodotus,  to  Egypt.  After  this  followed  over  ninety 
years  of  native  rule,  when  the  Persians  again  gained  the  ascendency, 
which  they  kept  only  eighteen  years,  and  gave  place  to  the  Greeks, 
under  Alexander,  332  years  before  Christ.  Then  followed  the  reign 
of  his  successors,  the  Ptolemies,  the  first  of  whom  was  distinguished 
for  the  collection  of  the  great  Alexandrian  library,  and  the  second  for 
the  translation  of  the  Old  Testament  into  Greek  during  his  reign, 
which  was  granted  as  a  boon  to  the  Jews  in  Egypt,  whose  civil  and 
^litical  emancipation  he  had  decreed,  seventy  learned  translators 
having  been  appointed  for  the  purpose,  at  their  request,  by  the  High 
Priest  at  Jerusalem.  Hence  the  name  Septuagent^  or.  Version  b/  the 
Seventy,  This  version  differs  mainly  from  the  Hebrew  in  its  chronol- 
ogy, the  former  removing  the  date  of  the  world's  creation  much  farther 
back  than  the  latter.  At  ^t,  and  indeed  for  centuries,  this  impaired 
confidence  in  the  translation,  but  later  researches  have  served  to  mod- 
ify the  opinions  of  the  learned  and  pious,  so  far,  at  least,  that  they 
have  come  to  r^ard  the  question  involved  aa  an  open  one.  On  the 
one  hand,  it  is  alleged,  that  the  authorized  chronology  of  the  Hebrew 
.bible,  dates  no  farther  back  than  the  yeign  of  Charles  I,  having  been 


404  LAIH)  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 

fixed  by  tbe  investigations  of  Archbishop  Usher,  which  differed  as 
much  in  their  results  from  those  of  Melancthon,  Luther,  and  Scaliger, 
aa  from  the  Septuagent ;  and  &rther,  that  there  are  no  less  than 
twenty-nine  systems  of  chronology  of  the  Hebrew  bible  (see  Glidden), 
all  constructed  by  learned  and  pious  men,  and  all  differing  materiallj 
from^e^h  other.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  alleged  that  the  chronology 
of  the  Septuagent  is  much  more  in  harmony  with  the  disdoeurea  of 
the  Egyptian  monuments  in  reference  to  the  time  which  has  elapsed 
lined  the  foundation  of  tbe  Egyptian  mfalriarchy. 

But'I  was  speaking  of  die  dynasty  of  the  Ptolemies,  Which  began 'ife 
nobly,  but  \thioh,  in  the  end,  reached  the  lowest  point  of  infiimy,  oj)- 
posing  but  a  feeble  barrier  to  the  encroachments  of  Roman  power, 
which,  at  the  end  of  two  hundred  and  ninety-six  years  from'  the 
establishment  of  the  Grecian  rule,  made  a  final  conquest  of  the 
country,  and  continued  V^  hold  it  until  the  seventh  century,  when  it 
yielded  in  turn  to  the  conquering  Saracens.  Under  the  Roman  power 
Christianity  was  introduced,  and  the  Alexandrian  school  of  theology 
became  fk^mous  throughout  Christendom ;  connected  with  it  were  some 
of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  fathers.  Tlie  Greeks  and  Romans, 
during  the  thousand  years  of  their  rule,  endeavored  to  i-evive  and 
foster  the  drooping  aits,  and  to  preserve  the  wonderfiil  monuments  of 
ancient  skill,  but  the  Saracens  seem^  bent  upon  obliterating  every 
vestige  of  them,  thus  removing  the  painful  contrast  to  their  own 
barbarism. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 


ii 


A  Temf^  Washed  away  hy  the  NUe^-^iovi  as  a  Sacred  Oiiy^-^AUmdrng  a  Ooptk 
Ohwhch, — The  OopUc  Bdigion^ — The  Copts  as  a  People,  • 

And  right  here,  as  we  drift  on  our  way,  we  pass  the  spot,  upon  tKe 
right  b^,nk  of  the  Nile,  where,  as  recently  as  the  year  1813,  stood  tie 
beautiful  temple'  of  Anteopolis,  or  rather  its  magnificent  portico,  with 
three  rows  of  columns  fifty  feet  high,  wrought  in  panels,  and  surmoun- 
ted with  capitals  like  the  calyx  of  a  flower,  at  that  time  the  admiration 
of  every  traveler.  Time  rolled  on,  and  so  did  the  Nile,  until,  in  these 
few  short  years,  the  entire  foundations  have  been  swept  away  by  its 
ceaseless  washings,  and  column  after  column,  and  mass  upon  mass,  have 
tumbled  into  its  waters  and  disappeared,  and  now  not  a  vestige  is  left 
to  mark  the  spot  where  it  stood. 

Again  we  are  at  Siout,  the  capital  of  upper  Egypt,  so  renowned  for 
the  grottoes,  or  tombs,  with  which  the  mountain  back  of  the  town  ia 


ATTBKDIHG  A  OOFTIO  GHUBCEL  405 

mseacaouaj  of  which  I  have  spoken.  The  remains  of  a  causeway  across 
the  plain  to  the  V>wn,  and  of  another  from  the  town  to  the  citj  ^f  the 
dead  in  the  mountain  rock,  both  of  Egyptian  origin,  exhibit  a  vastness 
of  conception,  a  boldness  of  execution,  and  perfection  of  finish,  scarcely 
excelled  by  the  great  pyramids  themselves. 

But  it  is  as  the  sacred  city  of  the  Copts,  the  original,  and  nominally 
diristian  inhabitants  of  the  country,  that  Siout  is  most/enowned  in 
modem  times.  To  the  Copts,  Siout  is  what  Mecca  is  to  the  Moham- 
medans, and  what  Jerusalem  is  to  the  Jews  and  the  nominal  christians 
of  the  east  generally,  a  place  invested  with  a  mysterious  sacredness  by 
a  superstitious  &ith,  to  which  pilgrim  armies  annually  resort  to 
pay  their  devotions. 

I  was  at  a  loss  to  conjecture  what  there  was  to*make  Siout  such  a 
place  to  the  Copts  of  Egypt,  but  I  soon  learned  the  humiliating  secret. 
These  people  assert  and  believe  that  the  Virgin  Mary  and  the  infimt 
Jesus  made  a  visit  to  Siout,  while  they  sojourned  in  Egypt,  and  from 
this  supposed  circumstance,  the  place  is  alleged  to  have  become 
steeped  in  holy  influences,  and  as  a  consequence,  it  is  constantly 
thronged  with  pilgrims  from  every  part  of  Egypt,  who  come  hither, 
some  to  havQ  the  seal  set  to  their  salvation  and  return  to  their  homes, 
and  others  for  the  blessed  privilege  of  dying  here,  taking  this  route  as 
a  sure  one  to  a  better  world. 

I  have  had  many  opportunities  to  cultivate  an  acquaintance  with  the 
Copts,  and  to  familiarize  myself  with  their  peculiarities  in  manners 
and  religion. 

On  one  delightful  Sabbath  morning,  while  I  was  in  Cairo,  I 
mounted  a  donkey  and  started,  at  the  yell  of  the  donkey  man,  follow- 
ing at  r  his  heels,  for  Old  Cairo,  three  miles  up  the  river,  with  a  view 
of  attending  worship  at  a  Coptic  church,  there  being  several  in  the 
place,  which  is  the  seat  of  the  patriarcL 

A  delightful  half  hour's  ride  across  the  plain,  teemii^  with  luxuri- 
ant crops,  along  a  way  studded  with  trees  on  either  hand,  brought  us 
to  this  ancient  borough,  which,  in  the  language  of  the  country,  is  called 
**  Misr,"  a  contraction,  apparently,  of  "  Misraim,"  from  whom  descend- 
'^  the  original  inhabitants  of  Egypt,  of  whom  the  Copts  are  the  only 
remains.'  Passing  along  its  narrow,  winding,  dirty  streets,  and 
through  contracted  door-ways,  we  arrived  at  the  church  of  St.  Marie, 
fikmed  die  world  over  for  the  sacred  grottoe  over  which  it  is  built. 

The  h^r  of  worship  not  having  yet  arrived,  the  sexton  volunteered 
to  conduct  me  to  the  holy  grottoe  of  the  Virgin.  Having  lighted  a 
candle,  he  took  off  his  shoes,  and  motioning  me  to  do  the  same,  bade 
me  follow  him.    Descending  a  flight  of  steps  into  a  sort  of  cellar,  he 


4b6  LA3W)  '0^  (rbB'  pyramYm. 

stepped  softly  and  reverentially  along  to  one  si^e  of  it,  wbere  fhttlB' 
was  a  "hole  in  the  rock  about  Isirge  enough  to  contain  tyro  persons  in  it 
r^umbent  posture,  and  putting  out  his  hand  toward  it,  he  rolled  tip 
his  eyes  devoutly  upon  me,  and  said,  in  a  sort  of  half  whisper,  "Here* 
slept  the  holy  Virgin  and  the  child  Jcfeus." 

The  thing  was  done  with  such  an  unction,  and  meek  devotion,  that 
I  cduld  not,  »for  the  life  of  me,  but  enter  into  his  sympathies,  and 
resigh  myself  to  the  bewitching  influences  of  the  place. 

Emerging  from  this  den,  he  showed  me  tiie  church,  lirhidi  was  a« 
fine  as  poverty  could  make  it — ^a  very  sorry  concern.  The  picturear 
which  appeared  on  every  hand,  were  mere  daubs. 

Their  religious  services  consisted  in  reading  the  Scriptures  in  tlie 
oi'iginal  Coptic,  and  prayers  in  Arabic,  going  through  a  round  of  oere- 
Dionies,  such  as  bodily  prostration,  repeating  certain  prayers,  passing 
around  of  the  priest  to  stroke  the  beards  of  the  faithilil,  and  odier 
things  equally  ridiculous. 

Their  religion  seems  to  be  a  compound  of  Judaism,  Mohammedan- 
ism, and  a  corrupt  Christianity.  With  the  Jews,  they  circumcize  their 
children ;  with  the  Mohammedans,  they  make  bodily  prostration  tJie 
leading  feature  in  their  devotions,  and  their  females  conceal  their  fiioes ;- 
and  with  the  Roman  Catholics,  they  believe  in  transubstantiation,  a&d 
practice  auricular  confession. 

The  process  of  inducting  their  candidates  into  the  priestly  office,  and 
into  monastic  institutions,  is  singular  enough,  the  one  being  as  ludi- 
crous as  the  other  is  lugubrious.  When  the  candidate  for  the  priest* 
hood  is  to  be  ordained,  he  is  seized  by  certain  priests,  his  friends,  and 
borne,  apparently  against  his  will,  and  in  spite  of  his  remonstrances 
and  struggles,  to  the  patriarch,  who,  disregarding  his  pleas  of  unw^or- 
thiness,  proceeds  to  pronounce  over  him  his  benediction. 

The  candidate  for  a  monastic  order,  is  wrapped  in  a  winding  sheet, 
laid  out  as  a  corpse,  and  funeral  services  are  performed  over  him,  to 
indicate  that  he  is  dead  to  the  world. 

On  the  beautiful  Island  of  Rhoda,  in  the  Nile,  directly  opposite 
Old  Cairo,  these  people  point  out  what  they  call  "  the  steps  of  Moses,** 
being  the  very  spot,  as  they  allege  and  believe,  where  the  daughter  of 
Pharaoh  descended  to  take  up  from  his  bulrush  cradle  the  futftre  leader 
and  deliverer  of  the  hosts  of  Israel. 

But  why,  it  has  been  asked,  do  not  these  Copts,  as  desceinled  from 
the  original  inhabitants  of  the  country,  bear  a  more  striking  resem- 
blance to  the  ailcient  Egyptians,  as  represented  in  tiie  various  mntu^ 
mies  which  have  been  disentoombed,  and  the  numerous  paintings  and 
statues  ?    To  which  it  may  be  replied,  tlmt  they  do  bear  some  reseni'- 


OOPTS  OQMPAA^  WIfH  <4CinqCI^  Ac  4D1 

m^tttmf         "  ■■■—■■■—■    ■  ■-■■  ...  I  ....  ■  ,       ^i ,  . 

Uinoe,  aad  as  much,  perhaps,  as  oould  be  expected  from  the  circum- 
ataoces  of  the  case.  Overmn  as  tbej  ^ve  been,  successively,  by  the 
Babylonians,  Persians,  Greeks,  and  Romans,  colonies  fi^m  those 
nations  came  thronging  in  upon  them,  especially  of  the  Persians  ^d 
Qft^eks,  wbp,.  mixing  and  intermarrying  with  the  original  inhabitants, 
t^MiS:  greatly  mqdffied  their  peculiarities.  Jt  might  readily  be  expected 
th^tauch  aynalgamation,  together  with  centuries  of  oppression,  would 
"WQrk  great  changes  in  the  phy9iognomy  of  any  people.  There  are, 
however,  traces  of  resemblance  sufficiently  distinct  to  identify  them  as 
Iju^  same  people.  They  have  dark  complexions,  black  eyes  and  hair,  the 
ll^r  sojfaetimes  slightly  curled,  rather  thick  lips,  wide  mouths,  gener- 
ally the  aquiline  nose,  high  cheek  bones,  and  a  rather  puffed  visage. 

.Iliey  now.  number  from  150,000  to  200,000,  and  though  scattered 
over  all  Egypt,  they  reside  lAostly  in  Southern  or  Upper  Egypt, 
wluther  they  have  retired  before  their  oppressors,  and  where  they 
QQDstitute  nearly  the  whole  population  of  many  villages.  Being  more 
e3q>ert  than  the  Arabs,  they  are  employed  very  generally  as  clerks, 
And  In  Ijbie  handicraft  trades,  but  are  always  treated  with  contempt  by 
^leir  oppressors.  They  are  distinguished  by  the  color  of  their  turbans, 
which  are  a  plain  white,  the  Arabs  alone  being  permitted  to  wear  the 
gftudy  colors. 

The  Copts,  however,  enjoy  one  great  privilege,  and  one  for  which . 
they  might  well  be  envied  by  the  Arabs,  viz :  exemption  from  milita- 
ry service.  No  Mohammedan  ruler  ever  honors  Christianity,  or. 
dishonors  Moslemisrti,  by  drafting  them  into  service,  and  employing^ 
^eir  arms  against  the  enemies  of  the  true  fuitlk  To  appreciate  this 
privilege,  one  only  needs  to  travel  tlirough  the  country,  and  witness 
the  miserable  objects  who  were  maimed  in  infancy  by  their  parents  to 
disqualify  them  for  military  service,  generally  by  plucking  out  an  eye, 
or  cutting  off  the  fore  finger — a  practice  which  Mohammed  put  a  stop 
to,  as  1  have  elsewhere  said,  by  levying  a  regiment  of  one-eyed  soldiers. 

The  Copts  of  Egypt  will  ever  be  regarded  with  peculiar  interest,  as 
being  the  feeble  remnant  of  that  ancient  people,  whose  works  of  art, 
after  the  lapse  of  three  thousand  years,  are  still  the  wonder  of  the 
world.  The  resemblance  they  bear  to  their  illustrious  ancestors,, 
though  impaired  by  intermixture  of  blood  and  degeneracy  under' 
oppression,  can  yet  be  plainly  traced.  Nor  less  interesting  is  the 
fpectocle  they  present  as  a  nominally  christian  people,  the  last  and 
<Vily  remnant  of  a  christian  community  which  was  distinguished  alike^ 
fi)r  numbers,  learning,  and  piety.  And  though  they  be  sunk  in  ignorance 
azid  superstition,,  and  retain  little  more  than  the  name  of  Christianity,  we 
cannot  but  feel  our  christian  sympathies  kindling  up  in  their  behalf. 


408  LAKD  OP  THB  ^T 

I  ■ 


OHAPTEB  XLIV. 
T/^  Valley  of  Fay  (mm. 

And,  lo !  here  we  are  at  our  destined  stopping-place ; '  and  liere 
the  donkeys  and  donkey-men,  who  are  to  convey  us  to  the  deli^itfiii 
Valley  of  Fayoum,  which  is  reached  through  a  defile  in  the  mounfeam 
chain  that  walls  in  the  Valley  of  the  Nile  on  llie  west  Along  tbia 
mountain  gorge,  the  canal  Joseph  conducts  the  waters  of  the  Nile  into* 
this  garden-spot,  even  of  this  garden-land,  —  separating,  upon  Ar 
entrance,  into  nine  principal  branches,  and  these  again  into  innumeK 
able  others,  that  thread  their  way,  in  erety  direction,  over  the  valley, 
which  is  forty  miles  in  length  and  thirty  in  breadth,  reposing,  in 
verdant  beauty,  in  the  midst  of  the  surrounding  desert. 

This  secluded  valley  is  supposed  formerly  to  have  been  used  as  m 
reservoir,  into  which  the  waters  of  the  Nile  were  received  at  the 
annual  overflow,  and  from  which  they  were  discharged  back  again,  to 
refresh  the  thirsty  earth,  when  its  moisture  was  beginning  to  be 
exhausted.  There  are  still  to  be  seen  remains  of  immense  dykes, 
which  were  evidently  used  for  retaining  and  letting  off  the  water,  and 
which  were  the  product  of  an  incredible  amount  of  human  labor. 
This  immense  basin,  surrounded  by  desert  highlands,  must  have  pre-' 
sented  one  vast  sheet  of  water,  during  a  greater  portion  of  the  year. 
There  is  still  a  lake  (Lake  Moeris)  in  the  middle  of  it,  five  miles  in 
width,  and  running  its  whole  length — and  the  entire  basin  presents 
the  appearance  of  having  been  once  submerged.  But  for  the  dykes  of 
modem  origin,  it  would  now  be  filled  at  every  annual  overflow. 

Of  the  charming  rural  aspect  of  this  retired  spot,  it  is  impossible  to 
give  any  adequate  description.  The  beautiful  lake,  which  glitters 
upon  its  bosom  ;  the  innumerable  streamlets  which  run,  like  arteries, 
all  over  its  surface;  the  fields  of  roses,  which  delight  the  eye  and  per- 
fume the  atmosphere;  the  vineyards,  with  their  tempting  clusters; 
the  plats  of  rice,  of  wheat  and  of  flax,  and  the  groves  of  the  palm  and 
other  fruit  trees — ^these  are  the  objects  which  meet  the  eye.  And 
then  there  is  the  borrowed  witchery  which  is  thrown  about  them  bj 
contrast  from  the  bald  and  barren  desert,  with  which  the  entire  valley 
is  skirted. 

The  staple  product  of  this  valley  is  rose-water.  To  the  culture  of 
ihe  rose,  large  plantations  are  devoted,  and  the  rose-water,  which 
^rms  so  considerable  an  article  of  export  from  Egypt,  all  comes  from 
these  plantations.  It  is,  also,  the  only  spot  in  all  i^ypt,  where  the 
vine  is  cultivated  to  any  extent 


BXUAimm  VAMiBT  OF  PATOUM. 


Tht  ofaief  town  of  the  valley,  Medi^et^l-Psyeum,  is  bmli,  in  pait| 
from  the  remajins  of  ancient  Ansinoe,  whose  site  is  a  hundred  miles 
op  the  Nile.  Often,  the  same  building  presents  a  most  ludicrous  con* 
trast  between  modem  and  ancient  architecture — ^the  dumsj  modem 
brick-work  being  adorned  with  the  noble  and  beautiful  columns  which 
graced  that  ancient  town.  There  are  a  number  of  mosques  in  the 
place,  and  some  rather  splendid ;  but  the  inhabitants  of  the  vsllej  are 
mostly  Copts,  who  are  generally  civil  and  well-behaved. 

There  are  some  rather  interesting  remains  of  antiquity  in  the  valley 
of  Fayoum.  Toward  the  western  extremity  of  the  lake,  are  tlw 
remains  of  an  immense  building,  and  among  them  a  long  tunnel, 
ending  in  a  cell  of  a  perfectly  globular  form,  which,  from  its  extraoiv 
dinafy  capacity  to  increase  and  convey  sound,  is  conjectured  to  have 
been  used  for  the  delivery  of  heathen  oracles. 

-  A  wonderful  edifice,  called  the  Temple  of  the  Labyrinth,  is  spoken 
of  by.  Herodotus  and  other  ancient  historians,  which  seems  to  have 
been  located  in  this  valley.  A  pile  of  ruins,  900  feet  long  and  400 
wide,  south  of  Medinet  el-Fayoum,  has  been  supposed,  by  some,  to  be 
its  remains ;  while  others  identify  it  with  the  oracular  tunnel  and  celt 
above  referred  to. 

According  to  Herodotus,  this  edifice  contained  twelve  large  courts 
'and  three  thousand  apartments — ^fifteen  hundred  above,  and  fiftoeK 
hundred  under  ground, — with  halls  and  mazy,  winding  passages  witih 
out  number — there  being  holes,  here  and  there,  into  which,  if  a  person 
entered  and  attempted  to  proceed,  he  was  inextricably  lost.  The 
walls  were  surrounded  with  pillars  of  white  and  polished  stone,  and 
both  walls  and  roof  were  incrusted  with  sculptured  marble.  The 
lower  apartments  were  appropriated  to  sepulchral  uses  for  the  kings 
who  built  it,  and  the  sacred  crocodiles — ^there  he  was  not  permitted  to 
enter. 

Of  the  upper  apartments,  which  he  was  permitted  to  explore,  he 
speaks  in  ^e  language  of  wonder  and  surprise,  as  being  the  most 
extraordinary  work  of  art  he  had  ever  seen,  although  he  was  &miliar 
with  the  most  admired  specimens  of  both  Grecian  and  Egyptian  arch- 
itecture. 

It  is  by  no  means  surprising,  that  those  who  were  intent  upon  some 
earthly  paradise  should*  have  selected  this  spot,  upon  which  to  expend 
their  treasure.  Nor  is  there  anything  disparaging  to  Quristianity,  in 
the  fiiGt  that  she  has  nodiing  to  show,  whi(^  will  bear  any  comparison 
with  these  remains  of  a  pagan  age.  Christianity  may  be  said,  indeed, 
to  have  put  an  end  to  that  long  line  of  architeotaral  wonders,  whioh 
place  the  andent  Egyptians,  at  an  unapproachable  remove^  above  all 


«^  ju^sD  OF  rmt  FT^^Mom. 

" '  — '  ' "   —  ■  -   .-  -..-■-.-    -.  ~-^-^ 

QKidem; otttrioiia.  Ilwas.fitliQg diatit AovXd b^ m  titot vHikAmiid 
Iwithe  tflfoe^  of  andigion,  whoAeievelaikiQiw  of  tb^aoen^pfthatwoild- 
to,  oome,  i^eduoed  to  iwngnificanee  ^yerjihiiag  ei^rtUy,  robUi^  jtt|»r 
pagttnflepulehre  of  all  its  importanoe a«  tbe depoaitoiy  of  a  Iwdy  lo 
ber&Aiilinated,  after  a  lap9e  of  three  tbouwi&d  years  of  trapamigiia- 
tioiiB, — fMTovidefl  it  could  be  keptaafe.  To.paganimii,  tbe  worlfi.invi 
everything— even  its  dark  future  looked  aot  beyond  it ;  and,  with  tJtiBk 
drde  of  its  virion,  aod  the  aspiratuMi  of  ite  hopes^  thus  bouaded,  it{ 
was  natural  enough  that  a  pagan  king  should  qpend  his  life  upon 
monuments,  which  be  hoped  to  gave  upon,  with  pride,  in  Ins  futum 
^tate  of  exiatonoe,  at  tb^  same  time  that  he  was  thus  rendering  whsit 
be  deemed  an  acceptable  service  to  bis  idol  gods,  as  a  ftithful  serysAti 
and  erecting  a  mausoleum  for  the  sa&>keeping  of  Us  body  until 
claimed  by  his  purified  spirit.  All  this  was  natural  enou^  and  in 
perfect  accord  with  tbe  promptings  of  a  soul  shrouded  in  tbe  thick 
wght  of  paganism.  And  it  was  just  as  natural,  sad  equally  in  aooonlv 
with  the  hopes  inspired  by  Christianity,  that  tbe  removal  of  the  yeil 
which  concealed  "  life  and  immortality,"  should  have  reduced  all  amib 
liungs  to  their  proper  level. 

But  we  must  bid  adieu  to  this   lovely  spot — ^with  its  venerable 
niins,  its  beautiful  lake,  and  its  verdant  and  flowery  fields,  rimmed 
with  glittering  sands, — and  hasten  back  to  our  boat,  by  the  way  in^' 
which  we  came. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 
The  Birds  of  the  Nile. 

In  my  rambles  through  the  fields  to-day,  1  met  with  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  birds  my  eyes  ever  beheld.  It  was  the  stork,  in, 
oolor  as  white  as  the  driven  snow,  about  half  the  size  of  tbe  wild 
goose,  with  great  elegance  of  form,  and  sn  expression  of  counteuanoa 
as  innocent  as  the  dove.  It  was  very  tame  and  I  could  approadi  very 
near  to  it  It  abounds  in  Egypt  and  Western  Asia,  and  is  every 
where  the  favorite  of  man.  From  the  habit  it  has  of  building  its 
nests  on  the  towers  o^  temples,  mosques  and  churches,  it  seems  to 
have  acquired  a  peculiar  sanctity,  in  Oriental  esteem,  and  heavy  pen* 
alties  are  imposed  for  destroying  it.  Its  affection  for  its  young  is 
remarkable,  and  it  is  proverbial  for  tbe  care  it  bestows  upon  tbciiiged 
sad  infirm  of  its  own  qpeoies.  It  was  a  sort  of  household  god  with 
the  andents,  and  so  sacred  a  character  does  it  still  retain  with  the  peo- 
fiey  that  the  person  who  should  inflict  upon  it  tbe  slightest  injury. 


WILD  GEESfl;  nwn,  t  aaODASBR, !  fSWlLLOMTB,  te.  4U> 

iroiM  me^t  willi  imhraMliiidigiiatiKNi.    It  Is  aiM  imiictiaMBttb.lnild) 
its  nests  in  the  chimneys  and  on  the  roofs  of  dweUing  hDosoB^  sad  as 
the  roois  are  flat^  aiid  used  for  promenading,  and  sometimes  for  sleap, 
it  18  brought  into  iamiMar  intevoQuras  with  the  £miilf .    ^  The  stark, 
dso  knoweth  her  time.*'  i 

Now  that  I  haye  mj  hand  in,  I  will  pay  my  respeelB  more  at  laige; 
to  the  birds  of  the  Niie.  We  are  never  out  of  hearing  of  the  sqnak- 
ing  of  wild  geese,  from  morning  till  night,  and  often  they  fairly  darken 
tlie  air  in  their  flight  In  one  instane8,'we  passed  an  island  of  sand 
all  covered  over  with  them ;  there  seemed  to  be  acres  of  them,  as 
dose  together  as  they  could  stand.  Ducks,  too,  of  many  different 
varieties,  and  of  most  gaudy  colors,  abound.  There  is  ene  variety 
whidi  is  said  to  roost  upon  a  tree,  though  I  never  saw  the  aght. 

And  what  is  that  beautiful  bird  sailing  so  graoefiilly  upon  the  bosom 
of  the  Nile,  rising  and  failing  majestically  with  the  waves,  with  i^ 
plumage  of  dazzling  brilliancy  ?  It  is  the  pelican — ^its  plumage  is  of 
a  reddish  cast,  and  when  burnished  with  the  beams  of  the  sun,  it  pre- 
sents an  aspect  of  great  beauty.  This  bird  is  esteemed  a  great 
delicacy  for  the  table.  ^  Like  the  pelican  in  the  wilderness,"  that  is, 
hke  a  water-fowl  in  a  parched  desert. 

I  have  alluded  to  the  numerous  dove-cotes,  rising  up  in  palatial 
grandeur  amid  the  mud  hats  of  the  villages.  These  birds,  are 
of  different  varieties,  some  of  them  resembling  our  domestio 
doves,  while  others  could  not  be  distinguished  from  the  wild  pigeon. 
I  rarely  go  ashore  without  meeting  with  large  numbers  of  them  upon 
the  river  banks,  whither  tiiey  have  flown  in  quest  of  food.  Besides 
furnishing  a  manure  equal  to  guano  for  the  land,  not  irrigated"  by 
the  Nile  (of  which  there  are  large  tracts  in  Upper  Egypt),  they 
constitute  quite  an  article  of  food  for  the  poor  peasant,  and,  indeed,  a 
hixury  which  he  knows  well  how  to  appreciate. 

And  how  could  any  cultivator  of  the  soil,  expend  money  to  better 
advantage,  than  to  adorn  his  premises  with  a  cote  for  these  harmless 
and  beautiful  birds  ? 

I  have  alluded,  also,  to  the  sea-swallow,  a  spedes  of  swallow  so 
called  from  its  being  so  numerous  upon  the  coast,  and  from  the  habit 
it  has  of  dipping  into  the  sea  in  its  flight. '  They  are  also  seen  flying 
in  swarms,  like  bees,  along  the  banlcs  of  the  Nile,  and. alighting  in 
immense  numbers  in  the  tops  of  the  palm  trees^  almost  deafening,  one 
with  their  chattering—always  in  a  glee. 

That  beautiful  bird,  the  gull,  I  have^bund  in:idl  parts  of  the  warU 
I  have  virrited ;  it  seems  to  delight  in  hovering  about  the  boata^  and 
to  show  its  beautiful  form  sitting  upon  the*  Nile*    ^TMa  biid  is  ismiisr^ 


4ir  >  ^  / '   M  LAITD  a?  mi  F7KUIID& 

talked  in -dw  tombt  of  BM  Hanitti,  wkM  I  oboervcA  U  gnrpldMUy 
{MttDtod  upon  the  walls^ 

And  what  bird  is  that  mouiitiiig.up  oq  higb  with  wide-apread  wiiigf 
It  is  the  I^yptian  vulture)  naturally  a  noble  looking  bird,  holding  a 
rank  in  the  feathered  tribe  almost  with  the  eagle,  but  gieatly  depred- 
ating itself  in  the  general  esteem  by  stooping  to  beeome  a  scavenger 
in  the  street,  fai  common  with  the  dog,  the  croi^,  atid  the  buzzard* 
And  I  am  sony  to  say,  that  so  lovely  a  bird  as  the  stork,  resorts  to 
the  same  low  and  filthy  employment  for  a  livelihood.  Both  were 
sacred  birds  with  the  ancients,  and  weace  embahned«       ^ 

There  are  some  stories  told  here  of  this  bird,  the  vulture,  which  are 
worth  repeating.  It  is  well  known  that  the  ostrich,  deposits  her  eggs 
in  the  sand,  and  abandons  her  embryo  young  to  the  chances  of  being 
hatdied  by  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  of  being  able  to  sustain  themselyes 
>  without  the  aid  of  her  maternal  care.  The  vulture,  being  a  shrewd 
bird,  takes  occasion  to  watch  her,  and  wh^i  she  has  ascerUdned  the 
happy  spot,  she  takes  in  her  talons  as  lai^e  a  stone  as  she  can  lift, 
mounts  aloft,  and,  when  directly  over  the  neet,  lets  it  drop  with  un- 
erring precision  directly  upon  it,  and  then,  darting  down,  rejoices  to 
find  that  out  of  fifteen  or  twenty  eggs,  enough  have  been  brokoi  to 
afford  her  a  good  meal.  It  is  also  credibly  reported  of  Uiis  bird,  that 
it  hies  itself  away  into  the  desert,  upon  the  track  of  caravans,  to  hunt 
up  the  carcases  of  man  or  beast,  that  have  perished  by  the  way. 

The  buzzard  is  the  same  unclean,  disgusting  bird  here  that  it  is  every 
where  else.  Of  the  crow,  as  he  appears  strutting  about  in  his  r^- 
mentals  here,  having  a  dove-colored  body,  with  black  head,  wings  and 
taO,  I  have  spoken  in  another  connection.  Upon  the  Egyptian  sparrow, 
too,  I  have  bestowed  a  passing  compliment.  It  is  a  little  brown  bird, 
about  twice  as  large  as  the  chipping  bird,  and  seems  to  court  familiarity 
with  man,  greeting  him  in  his  pathway  in  the  street,  and  following 
him  to  his  domestic  retreat. 

And  what  are  those  solitary  objects,  standing,  like  stumps,  at  the 
water's  edge,  upon  yonder  sand  bank  1  Ibey  are  cranes,  and  it  is  a 
spectacle  to  be  seen  many  times  a  day  in  passing  up  and  down  the 
Nile.  They  stand  like  stocks,  and  appear  to  be  in  deep  meditation  on 
some  importnit  matter,  or,  it  may  be,  they  are  dreaming  about 
catching  fish. 

Hawks  are  here  in  great  variety.  This  might  be  inferred  from  the 
numerous  hawk-headed  deities  everywhere  represented  in  the  plantings 
and  sculptures  of  the  temples  and  tombs. 

These  make  up  the  sum  total  of  the  birds  of  Egypt  At  least,  if 
tiiere  be  others,  tiiey  must  be  rare. 


BIRDS  LOVB  TftB  800ISTT  OP  ICAK.  41S 

- 

Hie  Ibis,  the  most  sacred  bird  of  the  ancient  Egyptians,  and  the 
one  most  frequently  embalmed,  has  been  supposed  extinct,  but  it  has 
been  pretty  well  identified  in  a  species  of  curlew  (Abou  Hannes)  often 
met  with  on  the  Nile  above  Egypt,  to  which  region  it  seems  to  hare 
retired.  It  is  white,  with  the  exception  of  its  head,  neck,  the  ends  of 
its  witags,  the  rump  and  tail,  which  are  black,  the'  latter  being  tipped 
with  violet.  Its  legs  are  long  like  the  crane,  and  its  beak  curved. 
This  bird  corresponds  with  the  description  of  the  Ibis,  by  Herodotu^, 
and  also  with  t£e  ntimerons  embalmed  Bpe^imens  o/  it  wUch  bay* 
been  disentombed  and  brought  to  the  light  of  day.  There  is  a  skele- 
ton "o^  ft  ih  the  British'  Museilm,  taketi  fh>m  a  tomb  at  Abousir. 
Cuvier  denominated  it  in  the  "Ibis  ReligioBae.'^ 

As  I  have  elsewhere  remarked,  the  birds  of  Egypt,  except  the 
aquatic,  hover*  about  the  towns,  and  are  to  •  be  met  with  in  the  palm 
groves,  in  the  streets,  upon  the  tops,  and  some  of  them,  in  t^e  interior 
of  the  houses.  No  little  warbler  ever  wastes  its  sweet  notes  on  "  the 
desert  air;''  and  not  only  does  it  shun  the  treeless  deserts  of  the  east^ 
but  seldom  is  it  found  even  in  the  solitudes  of  the  fbrest,  unbroken  by 
the  voice  of  man.  I  have  met  with  them,  occasionally,  beyond  th«^ 
footpHnts  6f  dvilization,  in  our  American  fbrests,  btit  they  seemed  as 
forlorn  as  the  solitudes  they  inhabited,  and  never  have  I  heard  them, 
in  such  circumstances,  give  expression  to  their  joy  in  the  sweet  melody 
of  song. .  No,  no,  that  is  not  the  home  of  the  birdies ;  their  nicely 
balanced  sensibilities  seem  to  revolt  at  the  idea  of  seclusion,  and  the 
few  who  are  found  in  such  solitudes,  seem  to  linger  out  existence  in 
voiceless  silence,  as  though  they  had  been  sent  into  banishment  fi*om 
all  that  they  love.  And  not  only  do  the  little  warblers  delij^ht  to 
hover  about  the  habitations  of  man,  but  delight  in  it  about  in  propor* 
tion  to  his  advance  in  civilization,  and  in  the  decencies  and  proprieties 
of  life.  In  these  semi-civilized  countries  tlie  birds  are  few  compared 
with  their  number  and  variety  in  the  countries  of  Europe  and  Amerite 
which  have  reached  a  more  advanced  stage  of  civilization,  and  among 
the  native  tribes  of  the  forest,  they  are^proportionably  less  in  nmnber 
and  variety,  and  proportionably  inferior  in  sprightliness  and  in  song. 
Providence  seems  to  have  gifted  them  with  instincts,  equivalent  to 
making  their  presence  a  premium  upon  the  civilization  and  refinement 
of  the  race. 


Mi  "      Ifii]fI>aPIHBP7BA3i£Mk 


CHAPTBEZLVL 
The  C^imakaind^  Seaaom. 

4 

lb  is  now  well  on  in  February ;  our  long  voyage  is  drawing  to  a 
dose,  and,  although  it  has  been  performed  in  the  depth  of  winter, 
nvTfx  had  voyager  a  ^aasaniter  time.  During  the  day,  the  atmoa- 
pbofe  faae  been  deligfatfiiUy  pure  and  blaad,  and  although  the  nights 
httv^e  been  chilly,  they  have  not  been  so  eold  as  to  leave  the  slighteat 
traoe  of  froet^  or  to  deprive  my  men^  captain  and  all,  of  the  luxury  of 
slewing  on  deck,  beneath  the  oanopy  of  heaven,  with  the  hard  plank 
beneath  them,  and  only  a  coarse  mantle,  with  a  hood,  for  a  covering. 
The  same  exposure^  however,,  would  have  dulled  me  to  death, 
bideed,  sometimes,  when  I  rose  before  the  sun,  a  ahiv^ing  would  run 
tiurongh  my  whole  frame;  but,  as  the  great  luminary  of  day  rose 
above  tibe  horizon^  it  never  fiuled  to  diiTuse  a  gratelGul  warmth  throng 
the  atmosphere^  whioh  attuned  both  body  and  mind  to  enjoyment* 
h  may  be,  that  this  habit  of  exposing  themselves  (which  we  wouU 

.denomtnaHe  reeklessnees  of  heahb)  is  tlie  very  means  of  the  extraor* 
di Aary  health  and  strength  of  these  people.  A  young  man  of  Smyrna, 
of  Iblteae  desoeni,  who  had  spent  some  time  in  Boston,  in  calUng  my 
fittention  to  this  matter,  remarked,  that  it  was  the  extraordinary  pains 
taken,  in  my  country,  to  preserve  health,  which  made  pet^e  ao 
siddy;  wUle  here,  he  added,  where  people  appeared  to  be  totally 
tfegardkss  of  health,  they  acquired  a  hardihood,  from  exposure,  whidi 

:fi>rtified  them  against  the  attacks  of  disease.    It  is  undoubtedly  true, 

(tiiat  £seaaes  thidcen  around  a  commui^ty,  somewhat  in  proportion  to 

.their  advance  in  the  refinements  of  dvilized  life. 

No  dimate  can  be  more  delightful  than  that  of  Egypt  in  winter. 

'The  atmosphere  is  mdlow  and  exhilarating,  and  the  earth  clothed  in 
ita  ridlest  green.  There  are  four  seasons  in  Egypt,  but  they  have  no 
oonrespondence  to  our  own,  either  as  to  character  or  the  lines  of 
divisiQCi.  The  wet  season,  or  season  of  overflow,  occurs  in  the  &il. 
Aldiough  the  Nile  is  ten  months  and  a  half  in  rising  and  falling  (from 
the  first  of  July  to  the  middle  of  May),  for  a  great  portion  of  this 

.  period,  it  is  confined  within  its  banks.  Its  highest  elevation  is  reached 
about  the  last  of  September,  and,  after  remaining  stationary  about 
two  weeks,  it  begins  gradually  to  subside.  The  overflow,  however, 
continues  some  six  weeks,  more  or  less,  according  to  the  elevation  or 
depression  of  the  locality. 

Next  follows  seed-time,  which  introduces  the  winter,  or  growing 
season,  of  which  I  have  spoken  above.     Upon  the  subsidence  of  the 


'WBtem,  die  soil  is  left,  not  only  ridily  manufed  by  the  dbspbeah*^ 
ftrtiliamg  earthy  nffttter  brought  do^vn  by  the  Nile,  but  in  im  admir- 
able ocmdition  to  reoeive  the  seed,  without  turning  a  ftirrow* 

So  charged  are  the  overflowing  waters  with  elements  of  fertility,  as 
materially  to  change  their  color,  which,  in  the  first  stages  of  theic  rise 
is  of  a  rather  deep  green,  and  then,  after  five  or  six  weeks,  a  browniMi 
red— occasioned,  doubtless,  by  an  infusion  from  the  rank  vegetation 
which  has  been  overflown  upon  the  high  table-lands, of  Abyssinia,  by 
the  periodical  rains  that  annualiy  deluge  the  country,  and  which  ai<e 
dfidned  off  by  the  Nile, 

But  I  was  spealcing  of  tiie  growing  sesson,  whidi  commences  the 
ktt^  part  of  October,  and  continues  through  November,  Deoember, 
January  and  Febmary,  during  which  time,  vegetation  is  thrown  up 
in  great  luxuiianee.  But  little  culture  is  required,  there  being  but 
few  weeds,  and  crops  come  rapidly  forward  to  maturity. 

The  hot  season  commences  about  the  finst  of  Mar^  and  seems  to 
be  occasioned  by  the  South  winds,  wiiicfa,  in  their  long  sweep  aoroia 
tlie  burning  sands  of  Central  Africa^  have  acquired  an  aridity  and  boat 
which  parches  everything  Aej  touch* — ^at  the  same  time  that  tli^ 
(Mften  come  charged  with  a  subtle,  impalpable  dust,  which  is  equally 
destructive  to  animal  life.  Most  crops  have  matured  before  the 
advent  of  this  season,  but  such  as  have  not,  speedily  wither  away, 
unless  sustained  by  incessant  irrigation.  As  these  winds  approach, 
the  sky  darkens  and  hangs  heavily,  the  sun  is  shorn  of  his  beams  and 
puts  on  a  livid  hue,  while  the  twilig^  gloom  renders  necessary  the 
light  of  a  lamp  at  noonday.  And  not  oolj  does  every  green  thing 
wither  to  a  crisp,  but  everything  manufactured  of  wood — ^furniture, 
machinery,  &c., — ^is  injured,  and  often  spoiled,  by  warping  and 
cracking.  I  was  told  that  the  machinery  of  the  cotton  mills  was  seri- 
ously affected  by  these  causes,  the  aridity  warping  and  cracking  parts 
of  it,  while  the  dust  penetrates  and  deranges  the  whole.  The  Nile 
itself,  so  cool  and  refreshing  up  to  this  time,  is  smitten — and,  if  niot 
turned  into  blood,  is  raised  to  the  temperature  of  blood,  and  is 
scarcely  capable  of  quenching  the  thirst  of  man  or  beastr  Man 
retures  from  the  streets,  and  silence  reigns  in  the  bazaar. 

These  are  the  simooms  of  the  desert  They  do  not  prevail  tminter* 
TUptedly ;  they  remit  and  intermit  at  intervals,  with  the  wind  and  its 
fitful  changes,  as  it  occasionally  veers  eastwardly,  and  then  veers  back 
again.  But  the  season  through,  unbracing  Uie  months  of  Maccfa, 
April  and  May,  participates  of  the  same  general  charactei*. 

Unfortunately  for  the  poor  Fellahs,  their  harvest-time  comes  in  the 
midst  of  this  seasoi^  April  being  the  month  for  the  wheat  harvest ; 


«M  LAKB  09  THS  P  Y&AMI])& 

and,  dreided  as  it  is,  there  is  no  repriere-^-thoy  knust  bow  themMliras 
to  tiieir  taaky  and,  when  driven  from  the  fields  by  the  sufiboatang  blasts 
they  must  retam  to  the  chaige,  and  toil  on,  under  the  sweltering  heat 
and  dust.  * 

Thus,  the  climate  of  Egypt,  whioh  is  one  of  the  most  delightfiil  in 
the  world  through  the  entire  winter  months,  is  so  suddenly  and  radi- 
cally changed,  as  to.  become  welli>n]gh  insupportable  to  both  man  and 
beast,  through  the  entire  spring  months.  Sometimes,  indeed,  they 
have  a  little  foretaste,  in  winter,  of  the  blasts  in  store  for  the  spring. 
I  have  already  spoken  of  a  day  in  Cairo,  early  in  January,  which  was 
a  fac  simile  of  them,  all  but  the  heat.  The  wind,  the  dust  and  the 
darkness  were  the  same,  without  the  heat.  With  that  exception,  not 
a  day  occurred  to  mar  the  beauty  of  the  season.  And  sometimea, 
too,  a  delightful  winter-day  or  two  will  stray  away  into  the  murky 
season  which  follows. 

i  The  next  season  commi^ces  with  June,  and  reaches  to  the  overflow. 
It  is  warm,  but  exempt  from  the  oppressive,  stifling  blasts  whioh 
cfaHnusterized  the  previous  seas(m.  The  wind  comes  from  a  ditferent 
direction,  and  the  atmosphere  is  pure  and  serene,  while  the  heat  of  the 
day  is  neutralized  by  the  coolness  of  the  nights.  Many  crops  are 
(mltivated  to  advantage,  during  this  season,  by  means  of  artificial 
irrigaticm. 

But,  though  the  seasons  are  thus  distinctly  marked  in  some  respects, 
they  all  blend  into  one.  There  is  no  season,  throughout  the  year,  oold 
enough  to  nip  the  tenderest  vegetable ;  and  none,  except  the  season  of 
overflow,  in  which  vegetation  cannot  be  cultivated  to  advantage, — not 
.  even  the  spring,  with  suitable  attention  to  irrigation.  Indeed,  in  some 
sense,  Egypt  may  be  said  to  enjoy  a  perpetual  spring.  Although 
there  is  a  rather  general  &11  of  the  leaves  in  October,  and  a  pretty 
general  blossoming  in  February,  yet  there  are  many  exceptions. 
Often  is  the  spectacle  seen,  of  a  tree  just  bursting  its  buds,  while 
another,  by  its  side,  is  casting  its  leaves,-^— of  one  in  full  blossom,  side 
by  side  with  another  laden  with  fruit — of  laborers,  in  one  field, 
planting  a  crop,  while,  in  the  next,  ithey  are  harvesting.  And  so  it  is 
all  the  year  round, — ^the  land  is  never  at  rest,  nor  does  it  need  any,  as 
it  is  annually  renovated  by  the  Nile. 

It  should  be  added,  that  it  never  rains  in  Egypt  above  Cairo,  and 
very  little  below.  The  cool  ni^ts,  however,  precipitate  the  moisture 
in  the  form  of  a  heavy  dew.  Raz^ly,  also,  is  thunder  heard,  and  never 
in  startling  peals.  Often,  the  watery  vapor  collects  into  clouds,  which 
hang  threateningly  over  the  country,  but  always  pass  ofl*  without 
dischai^i^  their  treasures. 


^OMNBBAJr  RAMBTtia  41) 


■<■» 


JOUfJLNAL  LEAVES  OF  A  EUROPEAN  RAMBLE. 


BT  O.  BSTBUHB  DVfWUifJ}. 


CHAPTER  jn. 

On  Board  Cuward  Stkamsr  **  Asia,"') 
Julj  5th,  1866.  ] 

•Sttll  are  (wb  diifkig  on  through  this  neTer-liftiag,  ne^er-ending  and 

;i9npeiMtraJb]e  f(^.    SdU  stands  old  Jade  by  the  Steamer's  wlMle, 

eae  hand  m  his  podcot,  and  the  otheir  employed  upon  the  rope  that^ 

every  two  minutes  orless,  ^seareams  out  our  oiyward  march.    The  suA, 

thait  goUen  guide  of  the  maroier,  has  been  lost  to  «s  all  day.    No 

obaervation  has  been  <  taken  wilh  the  quadrant,  and  the  Captain  em 

•<«ly  judge  of  our  itrh^nabovts  by  his  frequent  soondlngs,  and  the 

iknowledge  acquired  by  past  experience  in  runniag  over  tUs  route. 

'The  sea  lies  blade  and  smooth  around  the  Steamer,  as  ftr  iw  our 

iluniied  vision  tmi  reach ;  and  mereilully  eorapels  but  few  of  our  torn- 

ipa^y  .to  /bow  tbe^iok^ned  hefid  in  aubmimon  to  his  ;Bu^es^.    Xhe 

^ttsse^gers  aeem  genemlly  to  be  intraduoing   theraaclveB   to  one 

(another,  and  .soma  abeady  forging  tfie  brittle .  fetters^  of  jthoao  preoaA- 

lOus  macine  .fiaeodships,  wbidi  00  often  orumble  and  evaporate  "whan 

•earried  off  upon  ihe^Md.  .  J-^-—  is  this  memtjog  in  Us  piime,  having, 

.as  h^iOays,  ''offered  i«p  to  the'SeaKGod  at  least  a  quart  of  bile,iaa0 

fVQused  ;aa  af^etite  whleh  makes  him  ,as  huogsy .  as  a  bear."    Haviag 

-been  greatly  aanoyedby  the  praseaee  ofa  few  American  eof^MOf, 

.<#hi€b,  by  laoDoe.  mistake,  had  been  ^laft  oter''  in  his  podset,  he  and 

YT-**-^, '^tk  one  or  two  aew.aoqaaintanaes,  now  find  use  £dt  Huam 

'hy  pitching  .them  .at. a  penknife  set  up  between  tworplaahs  on  the 

itessd's deek,-«*tfie  vesidt of  whbh,  aa  weleamed  at .11  o^daek lunch, 

xwas  thejprQiduction,nm the partof  one- of  th^ eompiny,. cf a  bajktle itf 

jiafireahment  all  'rouiwl.     iBut  whdiher   it  .wm  purehgaed  iwitli -tib 

taforesaid  aiz  ooppersi  or  assessed  db  some  one  of  the  corps  fi>r  ibid 

play  of  the  game,  was  not  jfidly  «0t  fertb.   tit  certafcly  was  < the  meat 

^piroduAtiire  inyfatment,  however,  <Qf  )Six  wieurrent  cio^^era,  tbfct  «ver 

]fdl. under  my  observatioQ.    ButJ--^ —  is  ar  keen  man  (k  businteB,  and 

^ojws  how  to  eA^pLpy  his  c^tal  to  lihe  iMBat  advantage. 

i ,  \  VOL.  I,  NO.  vin. — ^26. 


r4l8  BUHOPSAK  RAMBLBB 


After  lunch,  sevei*al  sturdy,  gray-haired  Englishmen  bow  them- 
selves down  to  a  game  of  "  shuffle-board,"  so  called,  which  consists  in 
sliding  over  the  deck,  for  a  distance  of  thirty  or  forty  feet,  certain 
round  blocks  of  wood,  about  half  or  three-quarters  of  an  inch  in 
thickness,  and  in  size  like  the  crown  of  a  man's  hat, — the  object  being 
to  introduce  them  within  certain  chalk-marks  sketched  out,  like  the 
boys'  game  of  "  hop  scotch,"  upon  the  surface  of  the  deck:  It  appears 
to  be  a  favorite  and  orthodox  game  with  Englishmen  on  ship-board, 
giving  rise  to  frequent  exciting  contentions  and  strifes,  which  are  gen- 
erally amicably  settled  over  several  bottles  of  Barclay  &  Perldns* 
plump,  black  and  substantial  **  heavy  wet."  The  game  itself  may  be 
vei^y  pleasant  to  the  parties  engaged  in  it,  but  it  is  not  so  agreeable  to 
the  feeble  occupants  of  the  state-rooms  directly  below,  to  have  six  or 
.seven  wild  ''John  Bulls"  capering  and  dancing  and  sliding  ''^uffle- 
.  boards,"  some  twenty  inches  or  less  from  their  noses,  and  threatening 
every  few  minutes  to  thrust  a  heavy  foot  through  the  deck  plank  into 
their  &ces.  But  burly  old  John  cares  nothing  for  that,  or  rather 
he  never  thinks  about  anybody  else  than  himself,  while  engaged  in  bis 
sport — it  is  the  cardinal  rule  of  his  nation  to  look  out  for  ''  Johnny  ** 
&st^  and  other  folks'  rights  may  be  subordinately  regulated  afterwarda. 

Others  of  the  passengers  promenade  the  decks,  both  upper  and 
lower,  and  smoke,  chat  with  the  Captain  around  the  great  central  red 
pipe  of  the  Steamer,  or  stretch  themselves  along  on  hair  cushions  laid 
over  the  deck,  which  answer  an  admirable  purpose  for  invalids,  or 
those  who  have  been  rendered  lazy  by  the  heavy  dinner,  ^cc.,  of  the 
day.  Hie  ladies,  too,  are  creeping  out  quite  numerously  from  their 
state-rooms  into  the  saloon,  and  one,  I  observe,  already  under  full 
headway  with  pen,  ink  and  paper,  but  whether  "  doing  up "  oorrss> 
pondence,  or  ''doing  up"  a  book,  it  were  impossible  to  say;  yet^ 
from  a  certain  shine  upon  her  forehead,  a  harshness  of  several  of  the 
lines  about  her  &ce,  and  several  other  rather  equivocal  indicia^  I  was 
quite  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  it  was  the  latter  work  to  which  she 
was  devoting  herself— so  I  gave  the  lady  a  wide  berth,'^lest  perchance 
she  might  seize  on  me,  then  of  rather  woe-begone  and  forlorn  appear- 
SDoe,  and  impale  me,  with  her  gold  pen,  upon  the  virgin  page,  before 
her  drcle  of  admiring  friends,  as  one  of  the  victims  of  that  tormenting 
sea,  over  which  her  strong  mind  had  enabled  her  own  polygonal  body 
to  triumph.  It  is  wretched  enough  to  be  sea-sick,  but  to  be  twitted 
of  it  publicly,  is  to  die  "  the  second ^death." 

As  for  myself,  having  unexpectedly  been  permitted  to  eat  a  lunoh 
of  sea-bread  and  cold  ham,  and  generally  to  feel  much  better  than  I 
had  dared  to  hope  for,  my  feet  led  me  off  again  to  the  stairs  over  Uie 


BRITISH  BAILOR  KOT  PROPANE.  '41* 


Wlieel-house,  which  had  already  become  a  home-like  spot.  Old 
'••Jack  of  the  whistle"  was  disposed  to  repeat  his  command  of  prohib- 
ition from  the  quarter-deck,  but,  observing  that  the  trespasser  was 
"he  of  the  wheel-house,"  he  Med  to  renew  his  orders,  and  permitted 
me  quietly  to  retain  my  place. 

'  Another  observation  on  the  British  sailor  which  surprised  me  "much, 
was  his  apparent  freedom  from  the  vice  of  profanity.  While 
the  mouths  of  American  sailors  are  filled  with  imprecations  of  the 
*  vilest  sort,  you  hardly  hear  anything  from  the  British  sailor,  harshetr 
tlian  the  ordinary  phrase  of  strong  assurance  used  in  polite  society. 
The  truth  of  this  was  this  morning  illustrated  by  a  controversy 
between  two  gangs  of  hands  who  were  receiving  from  below  the  large 
iron  casks  overflowing  with  cinders,  and  of  very  heavy  weight,  which 
they  carried  turn-about  to  the  side  of  the  steamer,  and  emptied  under 
the  wheel.  The  dispute  was,  that  one  gang  had  carried  their  quota  of 
'loads,  and  the  rest  must  be  disposed  of  by  the  other  gang.  The  alter- 
■  cation  waxed  warm  and  grew  into  a  quarrel,  and  strong  words  were 
used  on  both  sides  before  the  difficulty  was  settled  ;  yet,  through  the 
whole  of  it,  no  harsher  exjJl'ession  was  used,  than  "  upon  my  honor  " 
'and  *•  upon"  my  soul,'*  and  one  or  two  others  of  like  character. 
Whether  this  decency  of  expression  is  voluntary  on  their  part,  or 
compelled  by  the  discipline  of  the  boat,  I  do  not  know ;  but,  whatever 
its  cause,  it  is  certainly  much  pleasanter  for  the  passengers,  whose 
ears,  on^our  own  home  steamers,  are  so  oflen  stunned  by  streams  of 
the  very  coarsest  language  that  the  tongues  of  corrupt  men  can  utter. 
If  it  is  thejresult  of  rules  enforced  on  the  boat,  then  it  were  well  if 
our  American  steamboat  masters  would  pattern  afler  their  English 
'  brethren  in  this  respect. 

At  four  o'clock,  we  were  summoned  to  dinner,  but  being  tardy  in 
responding  to  the  call,  we  found  the  seats  all  -  full,  and  accordingly 
were  invited  below,  by  the  Steward,  to  a  table  much  smaller,  but 
vastly  more  social,  than  the  more  formal  and  extended  one  above 
stairs.  In  order  that  the  public  may  know  how  well  they  are  cared 
for,  when  they  become  passengers  on  board  these  small  worlds  of 
steamers,  I  will  mention  a  few  of  the  articles  observed  on  our  little, 
unpretending  table  below :  First  comes  on  a  finely-flavored  soup ; 
next  a  delicious  fish  (I  think  a  salmon) ;  then  a  cairs  head,  choicely 
prepared ;  a  superior  ham ;  a  noble  round  of  com  beef  (for  those  who 
like  the  dish) ;  a  brave  old  roast,  which  furnished  slices  big  enough  to 
cover  your  plate  and  festoon  its  edges, — and  all  supported  by  various 
and  innumerable  side-dishes,  made  up  of  vegetables,  breads,  and 
'  indescribable  relics  of  former  supplies.    This  course  is  followed  by 


-■<*■!■ 


|l«^din0ic(coQ4pi0i0iM  among  wbidi  jp  the  ▼frU»ble^'^lu]xi*^)jaf  «m^ 
emmir^  9ml  iuAdi»  «ome  ^  vkieb  I  .^ould  jreeofiHio  viliNMiit  bobg 
^lUe.W^p^-dieir  naiiMfl,  4odrM«0  which  i  4io»ld  aot re^og^M^  eUhr 
iiL>«ib«twiQ»  i)r  in  wxWf  oavar  bftMiQg  •ocw  thsir  lik^  rbefiHe.  Umi 
came  in  the  pastry,  rioh  and  crispj,  togsAet  with  «Qflteid  and  Hia 
itmxa;  Aux  strawbemas,  large  md  ripe^  with  cream  fimuihad.bj 
oiH*  ^ellov^vojager,  .the  blaek  Diurham.  And  laatljy  wa  vwe 
joeaantod  ivith  figs  and  rasiaa,  nut9,.prunaB,  apples,  and  thoae  mriooB 
Jkniak-'knaQks  wUoh^ueoallj  wind  up  a  big  dinner.  TUnk  a£dil,tt^ 
lo  be  eatan,  beside  the  other  maals^'-'^nd  oo  figcereiaa  oriiard^offk#r 
*at^  ikind  to  help  digeatien  I 

WhSe  at  the  table, «  oonvereation  aprang  np  batvi^aen  » jeelf  Mil 
an  fSngUahgentleinctn  ^ppoaifca,  who  prayed  to  be  a  bamater:;  vyj^-m 
•{icofJe  geoacalljr  do  when  bxteaking  into  an  aoquaintanfie  mUh  one 
anothei:,  we  found  auraelves  aef|«ainted  with  mutaal  fiieodp^ 
bo4ih  in  the  States  and  in  NoraSeotia.  Thn  nnnTortiitlnn  jiinn  btinamri 
ganecal  around  the  board,  in  tbe  couree  of  whieh  ware  ditjbiwgd  hotfi 
JQritisb,  Prench  and  American- politioe,  Mob  law,  Morooon  har  smA' 
variouB  other  Icinds  of  law — ^and  all  with  that  aime  d^pree  of  final 
aatisfiiction  lihat  characterizes  xenconti^  of  this  doBoziption.  .A 
.returned  Caiifornian,  however,  who  was  of  our  party,  atr^nopilgr 
advocated  the  justice  and  propriety  of  mob  law,  daimiag  it  to  l»i# 
"useful  institution"  in  any  country ,-*-and,  by  way  of  ahawiiag  J^ 
decided  preference  for  it,  above  all  other  aorts  of  law,  .boldlf 
snoouncod  bis  determmatiou  to  shoot  one  of  the  San  Franciscan,  fiap 
of  Adams  &  Co.  (Wood,  I  ti»ink  he  called  him),  whenever  and  ^qfair- 
avar  -he  diould  chance  to  meet  him, — at  all  which  my  gnwa  l1ing^il^^ 
friend  rolled  up  his  eyes,  and  uttered,  murmuriogly,  ^one  dackiS^yJmg 
that  sounded,  to  me,  very  much  like  part  of  the  English-liturgy,  para- 
phrased thus :  "  From  all  republican  insiitutioiUy  and  etpeciaUy  fnum^ 
aU  bloody-minded  CcUtfomians^  Good  Lord  deliver  me" 

On  coming  up  after  dinner,  we  found  the  fog  still  draping  sea  and 
^ky,  and  precipitating  itself,  in  small  rain,  upon  the  deck/ the  effect  of 

whloh  had  already  imparted  to  J 's  light-colored  and  sUkJinad 

summer  overcoat  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow.  Night  was  iast  .a4* 
vancing,  and  it  was  whispered  among  the  passei^ers  that  we  were^tp 
lay  out,  within  an  hour  or  two  from  Halifaii,  until  daylight  returne^t 
or  the  fog  lifted  itself  from  our  path.  Suddenly,  as  we  sat  musit^  qfi 
the  prospect,,  the  order  was  passed,  sharply  and  loudly,  firom  the  boif, 
^  Port! — liard  a^porlt"  then,  almost  in  the  same  breath,  ^^ Bfpri 
a]port  P^  was  again  repeated,  and  "  Hard  deport  it  is^"  was  respondad 
b^  tbe  man  at  the  wheel.    The. passengers  orowded  in  diffidrent  diras- 


«jy»onNt  moAPBr  m* 


liMf%  Ad  ftll  gBfled  off  into  tjh#  gray  wtil  of  Ibg  to  0ee  wlM  perd 
ttMirtmie§  ii«^  but  BO  one,  MEeept  the  lookout  on  the  bow,  ktiew  wlM 
Imm^  transpired^  and  why  tbit  idBKlixig  order  kid'  been  gWen;  He 
n^ortfld  to  hiyoffianv,  and  pnmntlj  the  passengers  learned  tliat^  W9 
bad  WMVOwly  escaped  a  oelKsioik  with  a  barque,  wl^oh  bad  on^ssed  ifoat 
bow  «der  ML  sail,  and  only  about  forty  feet  off!  like  the  ''  Flying 
SutokniaB,"  boweyer,  she  soon  diBiq>p^u^  in  the  bank  of  fbg,  and 
left  ttsr  still  floundering  forward,  but  grati^l  that  we  bad  passed  her 
itt  safety.  An  incident  like  this,  tbon^b  apparently  trivid  in  its  nar- 
rative upon  shore,  has  a  startling  power  )n  it  when  transpiring  at  sea, 
ia^the  double  darkness  of  night  and  fog !  It  is  Hke  a  bullet  whistlizy 
by  the  ear  of  the  wayfarer,  who,  at  the  time,  dreams  of  notiiing  in  th» 
ativ  but  heaitih  and  t^e  song  of  birds;  or  the  ory  of '* fire!''  before 
your  door  at  the  midnight  hour;  or  the  batt^e-ery  of  '*nK)unt  and 
dftHnid,**  when  the  enemy  is  pouring  over  the  wall:  How  oflen  is  it 
baa  the  harbinger  of  death ! — ^the  sommons  to  depart  henee^  through 
tke  dark  and  tumultuous  wavesi  without  so  much  as  space  for  a  ikre- 
well  prayer.  Yes!  those  thrillmg  words,  "Plj)rf/— Aarrf Vjjor*/^ 
Ifave  alrttdy  proved  the  last  earthly  words  to  thousands  of  our  follow^ 
xneii)  and,  doubtkss,  they  will  yet  fall,  freighted  with  death,  en  the 
eava  of  thoaaands  more.    So  are  we  crowded  threv^fa  and  out  of  lifiL 

Now  our  oareftil  Captain  is  again  sounding  his  way,  and  ere  long 
e^prsssas  himself  confident  of  his  position.  He  orders  hia  guna^ 
leiided  and  made  ready  ibr  esiply  discharge,  hoping  te  receive  # 
Kiafpgse  IKna  the  guns  of  Haliftx.    Passenger  being,  for  the  time, 

pBiEdiibited  fnim  the  upper  deck,  I,  with  J and  W ,  dimbed 

vif  into  the  ri^ng,  and  lay  off  upon  the  ropes.     Our  friend  J  

Ingan  to  grow  a  litUe  nervousy  and  when  he  heard  the  man  with  tfaa 
laiid  anDoanee  the  fiuct  that  we  were  floadag  in  fbur  hundred  feet  of 
wnaer,  ceoUy  omidiided-  that  if  the  old  croft  should  collide  wkh  reek 
isr  vassal,  and  go  d(Mm,  ^hls  caroasa  could  not  very  well  produce  a. 
stench  in  tto  nostrils  of  either  friend  or  enemy."  Yet  I  teeied  ha 
had'  no  present  prefereacea  for  saoii  •  form  of  bnrialy  sod  wenid: 
flather,.Qnthe  whob,  indiDe  to  »  fisneral  on  shoioi 

While  we  thus  sot  naqathig  and  musing,  my  eyes  prooD^vted  vxf 
llpa  inta  the  ery  of '^  Lightnmg  P  b«t,  befbreareply  oenld  bemadav. 
aBO'  of  ear  blaelB-moaihed  gonai,  on  tba  opposite  side  of  the  veasei^ 
fiamdered.  against  llie  fog,  whish  seemed  singularly  to  aibaoab  itv 
xqpart,  dimiaiahiag  ita  power  by  oae-half;  Oar  eacs.  caught  notftngi 
brssfly-^thei Ocean  and  its  shatfesiefosb:^  us  even  the  osmpUuMalt 
a£aa  echo,  la  ten  maMrtes:after,  no  response  bdng  detectai^  Gspi.^ 
iMtt  auMedir  ''SOmn  on  Ae  dadkP^  aad  dlsckaaged  anodker  gaai. 


4^2  EUROPEAH  RAUBfiEg 


All  Stood  breathlessly  waitiDg — not  a  foot  moved,  not  a  voioe  whis- 
p^ed — and  soon,  like  the  tapping  of  a  lady's  finger  on  a  bass  dnuxi, 
"  boom !  boom  P'  we  heard  two  guns  from  the  heights  of  Hali&z. 
Tbeti  all  knew  our  Captain  was  right  in  his  oonjectures  as  to  our 
position,  and  the  hearts  of  the  passengers  were  cheered  with  the  pros- 
pect of  reaching  port  before  daylight.  Still  the  guns  are  sharply 
cracking  against  the  fog,  and  the  subdued  responses  that  come  to  us 
from  the  land,  ara  ail  the  means  we  have,  by  which  to  find  our  way 
into  the  harbor.  The  Captain,  however,  works  on,  doing  all  he  can 
to  help  us  forward  with  prudence  and  safety ;  and,  in  such  cases,  I 
have  ever  found  it  best  to  abandon  all  wild  conjecture,  dismiss  all 
vague  fears,  and  give  one's  self  up  to  his  care,  and  to  the  kind  provi- 
dence of  that  still  greater  Captain,  who  is  above  all  darkness  and  all 
seas,  and  under  whose  hand  are  all  our  ways. 

Nevertheless,  one  could  not  but  feel  moved  with  a  sort  of  sympathy 
for  our  noble  Steamer,  who  was  thus  sending  forth  her  cries  from  out 
the  darkness  of  sea  and  fog,  and  begging  her  way  into  port  But  a  day 
or  two  since,  she  crowded  her  way  fearlessly  forth  from  Boston  Har- 
bor, shining  with  all  the  beauty  of  her  hundred  flags ;  but  to-night  she  is 
complaining  like  a  child  lost  in  the  woods,  and  imploring  some  friendly 
light,  to  lead  her  from  the  mazes  of  the  deep  into  the  security  of  her  port 
So,  also,  have  we  seen  it  with  some  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 
Conscious  of  their  native  powers  of  body  and  of  mind,  fired  by  the  lofty 
spirit  of  ambition,  resolved  to  conijuer  even  the  elements,  if  they 
place  themselves  in  opposition  to  their  desires, — ^they  sweep  out  into 
life  like  this  great  ship  of  ours,  and,  for  a  while,  ride  over  or  ride 
down  all  the  obstacles  that  beset  their  way.  But  years  roll  on,  and 
their  pathway  become^  obscure.  That  which  they  had  constituted  the 
sun  of  their  life  is  under  eclipse ;  the  night  of  life  is  wrapping  its 
sable  folds  about  them ;  those  great  names,  or  those  schemes  of  phi- 
losophy, which  they  had  looked  up  to  as  headlands  to  guide  them  on 
their  course,  are  obscured  by  skeptical  clouds  now  uprising  in  their 
anxious  minds.  Spectres  flit  by  in  the  darkness,  like  our  flying  barque, 
filling  them  with  sudden  alarm.  They  run  to  the  line  and  plummet  of 
their  favorite  but  narrow  schools  of  philosophy,  and  seek,  by  their 
instrumentality,  to  find  where  they  are  floating,  but  the  plummet 
announces  depths  beyond  their  power  to  fathom.  The  fog  of  doubts 
and  misgivings,  and  the  darkness  of  life's  closing  night,  are  folding 
thick  curtains  all  around  them.  They  find  themselves  lost,  and  no  snn^* 
ofaart  or  compass  to  aid  them, — and  at  last,  like  our  own  great,  biack 
ship,  they  lifl  up  their  <^y  from  the  dark  sea  over  which  they  hare 
been  rolling,  and  beg  that  some  little  child  may  lift  the  lamp,  may: 


r 


ENTRY  INTO  HALIFAX  4», 


sound  the  guD,  that  shall  direct  their  confused  fiounderiDgs^  and  lead 
them,  at  last,  into  some  haven  of  peace.  To  some,  the  saving  call, 
though  faint  like  the  guns  of  Halifax,  is  vouchsafed  in  season,  and  they 
enter  gloriously  into  their  rest ;  but,  to  others,  no  answer  is  given,  no 
lamp  is  lit,  no  gun  is  fired — and  amid  darkness  and  fog,  and  stormy 
breakers,  they  disappear  from  life,  noble  wrecks,  with  all  their  pre* 
dous  freight  on  board, — ^and  ofl-times  no  man  knoweth  even  thdf 
sepulchre. 

But  we  slowly  pass  up  toward  the  Bay,  guided  by  the  guns  and  thd 
plummet, — so  slowly  that  even  Halifax  passengers  abandon  all  ex*^ 
pectation  of  reaching  their  home  to-night.  Trans-Atlantic  passengers 
are  busy  at  their  portfolios,  anxious  to  take  yet  another  farewell  of 
home,  by  depositing  letters  in  this,  our  sole  port  in  the  voyage ;  the 
iildififerent  ones  are  gabbling  over  cold  cuts  and  porter — and  in  the 
expectation  of  refreshing  our  eyes  with  a  sight  of  land  on  the  morroif^ 
even  though  it  be  our  last,  we  descend  to  our  state-room,  and  surren* 
der  ourselves  to  such  sleep  as  the  continuous  dischai^e  of  guns,  and 
tbe  bustle  on  deck  incident  to  the  collection  of  Halifax  freight,  will 
permit. 

As  the  feeble  beams  of  day  gradually  penetrated  into  the  depths  of 
our  state  rooms,  we  heard  the  whistle  still  at  work,  and  occasionally  ft 
gun  sounding  from  the  deck,  by  which  we  learned  that  the  port  of 
Hali&x  had  not  yet  been  reached.  At  half  past  seven  o'clock  I 
observed  from  the  upper  deck  a  small  boat  looming  out  of  the  fog, 
and  which,  on  approaching  the  steamer,  was  found  to  contain  a  pilots 
who  was  at  once  received  on  board  and  installed  in  office  by  the 
Captain.  Just  after  he  had  taken  position  and  commenced  bis  dutieSi 
another  boat  of  like  character  appeared  at  our  stem,  and  the  poor 
fellow  on  board  implored  very  earnestly  for  the  privilege  of  taking  us 
in,  alleging  that  he  had  heard  our  givns  early  in  the  preceding  night, 
and  for  eight  hours  he  had  pursued  us  through  the  fog,  without  reach* 
log  hailing  distance.  His  application,  however,  was  rejected,  the 
principal  adopted  appearing  to  be,  ^^  first  come  first  served,"  so  the 
poor  fellow  was  compelled  to  haul  off  and  comfort  himself  under  his 
dUjsppointment  as  best  he  could.  Presently  the  curtain  of  mist 
seemed  to  roll  itself  off  somewhat,  or  rather  the  high  hills  on  shore 
lifted  their  verdant  tops  above  the  fog  which  still  slept  on  the  sur&oe 
of  the  waters,  and  we  began  to  descry  the  headlands  around  the  harbor 
of  Halifax.  On  we  pressed  up  the  Bay,  and  presently  burst  the 
cloudy  barriers  of  the  deep,imd  escaped  into  blue  air  and  a  clear 
▼isyioD  of  the  city. 


4M  KOTBS  V^BKM  LAKIS  St9»BnK)&  '^ 


NOTES  FROM  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


BT  THK  ■OITOB. 


No.  1. 


To  one  who  has  been  fretted  and  ohaibd  by  the  aetivitks^ 
annoyed  by  the  smoke  and  dust  and  heat,  of  city  life,  there  is  a  oahA^ 
ami  refreshing  beauty  in  the  scenery  of  nature.  Strange  that  W9^- 
diould  eirer  tire  of  her  fascinations,  of  her  dashing  waters,  her  dimpled 
lakes^  her  bold  headlands,  her  billowy  hills,  her  green  fields,  and  her 

waving  forests.      And  then,  what  a  luxury  in  passing  from  the  sultry 
South  to  the  cool  North ! 

The  little  world  we  had  in  the  boat,  too,  afforded  a  panorsmio 
representation  of  the  great  world  without  Tottering  age,  sturdy 
manhood,  blooming  youth,  laughing  childhood  and  helpless  infimej 
Were  there.  There  were  stockholders,  dreaming  only  of  oai^oes  of 
copper ;  miners,  elated  with  a  prospect  of  "  flush  times"  in  their  lowly* 
oalling;  and  tradesmen,  expecting  to  make  heavy  drafls  on  tihd^ 
pockets  of  both.  There  were  pleasure-seekers,  and  not  a  few  whole 
fiimilies,  migrating  for  the  summer, — while  several  newly-married* 
couples,  with  a  wise  discretion,  were  intent  upon  spending  the  honey<> 
moon  amid  the  cool  retreats  of  the  North.  Altogether,  it  was  mt' 
interesting  medley,  full  of  instruction,  amusement  and  good  cheer. 

At  Mackinac,  I  spent  two  or  three  delightfiii  days.    That  is  m* 
charming  spot,  though  little  better  than  a  pile  of  lime  rock.     It  ia^ 
however,  for  the  most  part,  covered  with  eart^,  which  has  reimiteil^ 
firom  its  decomposition.     Trees  grow  on  it  very  well,  and  ther^  is  •- 
drive  of  several  miles  beneath  their  overhanging  foliage.     From  tto< 
summit  of  the  bland,  there  is  an  enchanting  prospect  in  ev^ry  direo^ 
tkm,  the  eye  ranging  along  the  Lower  Peninsula  an  the  south,  and  tha^' 
Upper  Peninsula  on  the  north,  while  numerous  fbrest-erowned  iskitdi^ 
oome  within  the  sweep  of  vision.    Pigeons  abound  upoo  the  iala&d^ 
and  shooting  them  constitutes  one  of  the  amusements  of  the  sojoumei^ 
BxBtt  the  boast  of  Mackinac,  its  crowning  product^  is  its  tront.    Hie^' 
do  not  taste  like  the  same  fish,  after  being  transported  three  or  femt' 
hundred  miles,  though  encased  in  ice.     I  am  told,  that  the  socmer  thMy 
fro  cooked,  after  being  caught,  the  better  they  are.    Nothing  oaa  be  % 


Sft.  WUSfft%^MMffti}»  iMSUiXtm, 


■»*>■—*»» 


II10  pttsmg*  «p  «b«  Sti  IBtfy'v'  iMS  eniftiHtitig.  StniietkniM  tlfe^ 
riyer  spreads  itself  out  miles  in  width,  asd  would  seam  like^  s  lake>, 
tat^  far  tlie  ttttmevou^  idlinds,  asftopied  with  f^npesto  of  0f  ergreens, 
aiftioi^  whieh  itr  tardily  find»  its  way.  There  is  a  plaee  in  ii  oidted,  I' 
thkik,  Lake  George,  but  it;  \a  do  more  alake  tlian  the  rest  of  1%  beiew, 
M  the  way  to  Lake  Huron,  except  that  at  that  particullup  place  iheM^- 
appear  to  be  no  islands.  I  should  judge  the  width  of  it  to  be  about' 
half  a  doaen  miles.  That  lake  (so  oakled)  ia^  indeed,  a  beaut^M  sheet 
of  water.  Having  gotten  partly  aiaroes  it,  the  gate  we  oame  in  at^ 
aoemed'  t9  be  dosed  b^nd  us,  while  we  could  see  no  openmg  ahead: 
Bordered  all  around  with  living  green,  with  its  gl^y,  unruffled  sun  ^ 

Ane^  it  seomed  like  » great  mirror,  set  in  a  frame  ^^  not  made  with 
hands." 

OBw^ae4  w^  steamed,  and  it  really  seemed  as  though  we  were  going' 
W  be  brought  up  against  the  h^hlands  whioh  bounded  the  shon»;  noT' 
Wiaany  way  of  escape  discovered,  until  I  had  well-nigh  given  up  all' 
hsipe  of  «ver  getting  out,  when,  all  at  onee,  the  boat  dodged  around  u^ 
point,  entering  a' narrow  channel,  which  we  followed  up  to  the  Saut. 

r  have  traversed  the  whole  length  of  Lake  Superior, — 50*0  miletr- 
(480  in  a  straight  line) — ^lingering  at  various  points.     Yesterday  we 
passed  the  ^  Apostles  Islands,*^  thirty  or  more  in  number,  lifting  up 
(Heir  green  heads  from  the  bosom  of  the  lake,  and  investing  it  with  an 
inexpressible  charm.     They  are  of  all  sizes  and  forms,  presenting  a* 
seene  of  picturesque  and  variegated  beauty.     There  is  one  which 
seems  a  great  rotunda  of  foliage,  its  wallff  taking  a  circular  sweep, 
orowned  with  a  dome>like  top.    Others  are  oblong,  with  rotund  ends, 
but  short  enough  to  bring  several  of  them,  of  different  lengths,  wiHiitt 
die  sweep  of  vision,  while  oceasionidly  one  is  seen  stretching  milea 
srwvy  upon  the  fkce  of  the  deep — all  presenting  a  rounded  outHne,  witlr 
an  occasional  projection ;  all  rising  gently  from  die  shore  on  every 
^Mift,  and  all  rejoicing  in  their  summer  glories.      Occasionally,  ait' 
opening  between  two  |disdoses  the  ends  of  others  beyond,  and^ 
between  these,  glimpses  are  caught  of  others,  and  od&ers  still,  until^ 
the  fitfthermost  one  seems  dissolving  upon  the  vision  in  dke  blue  dis- 
tance, while  die  great  lake  itself  appears  to  be  nursing  on  its^  bosom  a  • 
brood  of  charming  litde  lakelets — sheets'  of  water  environed'  on  every 
sMe  (apparently),  and  set  with  diese  emerald  gems,  and  reifeedng 
tkair  beaiadea.    It  was  a  lovely  seenej  and  hour  after  hour  passed^ 
atmy  aa  in  a:  ftlry  land. 

Wo  are  now  in  harbor,  at  the  moodi  of  the  8t  Louia  Hrsr,  wUdl 


4St^  Noiw  ¥Mm  tiOB^  innumu 


k»  h€^  kill%  cndi  when  W  di«s  «to  vm^  tfyfubol  dtottBgnMn>>  lii» 

After  flit,  flftid  Judge  A.  tii*:  tomahMrip  mdf  tbe^Midpiiig^MMb/  bwra^ 
iMki  dooe  half  m  muoh  to  depepvkto  oar  Indbit  totbaras  tf»  na  irf' 
iflfttodciilRiig  liquor.  Tke  dftet  of  ""  fire^fwler  ^  ttpon  tbaoH  m»¥«t|r 
paauliar.  It  did  not  seam  te  ediilemte  thanas  it  d«ea  tW  wkila  wMm^, 
iMiliiinaddeDed  them, and  hronghfc  out M  their aswage  ftroottjw  Andr 
y^ty.when  onea  they  had  taated  it^  they  were  peHeojly  pfaraiiiieA  aAiK 
il^  and  woukl  do  aoything  to  get  it*  He  xmm  itueir  thona  aiaal!  aap* 
thiag  but  whiskey.  Wkat  wholea^e  mordarers^  tben,  ne  the  mtm^ 
whb,  fbr  paltry  gain,  have  thus  ^read  daealatioa  Aroagh  the  TiiiIIm 
tiihaa  upon  our  borders ! 

TloBj  had  been  called  treaohenMis  and  revengefuly  he  said)  butt  tfaafi 
^aara  not  mora  so  than  any  people  would  be^  who  h«d  snffiNred  ar  tbaj? 
have,  from  ill  treatment.  Every  advanta^go  had  been  takeiir  of  tkeir 
innocence  and  ignorance  by  the  bad  white  man,''and,  in  their  weahaaaBi . 
their  natural  resort  was  to  treachery  as  the  only  possible  way  of 
making  reprisals. 

As  ail  instance  of  their  peaceable  and  quiet  behaviour,  under  good 
treatment,  he  adduced  the  fact,  that  the  American  Fur  Company'a 
trading  poste^  located  in  their  midst^  and  hundreds  of  mileafrom  any 
other  white  settlement,  had  never  been  disturbed,  though  often  left 
almost  defenceless,  under  the  care  of  two  or  three  persons.     In  one 
oaae,  fi?e  or  six  hundred  Indians  had  been  drit^n  in  by  defeat,  and  thay 
oame  and  enAEimped  right  under  the  Company's  fi>rt,  and  there  Atif^ 
etaid,  month  after  month,  fkmisked  almost  to  starvation,  not  dJuiqg* 
tb*  venture  fhr  away  for  fear  of  their  raemies ;   and  y^t^  not  a  ttiit^' 
dd  they  lay  their  hands  on,  nor  did  they  show  the  slightest  (fispoettfteft 
to  help  themselves,  t^ugh  starving,  and  though  there  weraa  hundred^ 
aad  fifty  bosbels  of  wild  rice  in  the  store-houae,  with  only  t?wo  penptaa 
to  de^ni  it^  and  they  knew  it    They  asked  for  relief,  but  submHteti 
quietly  to  a  refiisai,  and  bore  their  suftrings  in  patieneei    It  wa»a^ 
ttying  sAtoatron  fbr  him  to  be  placed  in,  ha  said,  and  added  that  lia> 
would  gladly  have  given  them  relief^  but  diared  net,  ha^ag  Ptminnt^ 
MkX  orders  to-  the  eontrary. 

niey  were  often  reduoed  tie  stmlts^  he  sa&d^  1fe=  hunger,  atarrattm^ 
and  deaths  by  tlheir  Itatiesanea^  and  irapnmdenee.  Tfaoaa  eaapk^yed 
hgp  the  Company  to  gather fdra^  triad  their  patieDoato  the  utOLoal^aM^ 
ia.  waa  wilk  diffiauhy  th^  could  get  aaytMng  out  0§  thaaa.  Whatt' 
thoae  in  ohaige  of  the  post  left  to  go  fbr  auppliea,  tbay  would  fmnaUk 
ttodf  tin  nuaaas  of  htiiig,  and  lit  them  ova  upan  huvtfaigraifttdMonv;, 
taoa,  genetaliy^  faaaaid,  OBsatumtaig.wtyir  Aair  asf^liaa^tef  wmid  ftadb 


Aem  all  there  idle,  With  no  fui^ior  very  few,  but  a  thousand  excusea 
faiatead.  And,  then  they  would  fit  them  out  again,  give  them  trinketa, 
talk  to  tihem  and  encourage  them  just  like  children,  sending  one  this 
wi^,.aod  another  that,  and,  in  a  few  weeks  they  would  return  loaded 
wkh  fiira.  And  tbeve  was  no  way  of  getting  along  wi&4faen|,  hat  to 
Jtceat  thorn  like  ao  many  children,  praising  4wd  enoouraging  theiq,  aotf 
fiiring  them  auch  worthleaa  Jbaubles  aa  <]hildran  luce  fi»d  o£  J41|e 
ahiJdimii,  they  wauld  take  Myan^pe  of  jrour  -weak  pmnts,  and  it  wa> 
necessary  to  be  .very  decidad^or  jtbere  would  be  iu>  living  with  theo^ 
4ne  .indulgenae  preparing  the  way  for  a  dosen  firosh  demands,  ending 
onigenend  inaubocdination.  If  a  nhild  died,  they  would  perhapax»R^ 
Ao;yo)^  sulky  fmdaour,  and  aay^'^  white  people  sent  the -disease,"  and, 
if  jroa  w^ie  not  decided  4n  r«|pelliQg  the  ohai^e,  they  would  pcesa. the 
jnatter  in  a  most  insulting  ond  overbearing  manner. 

Their  goyemment  is  patriarchal,  thw  rulers  being  lb»  head  fimfi^ 
Aft  tribes  and  the  subordinate  ehiefe  of  bands.  When  ciime  is  j^om^ 
ooitted,  aa  mnniei:,  the  lawof  private 'revenge  governs.  The  isi^rad 
jws^  may  lakefor  his  victim  the  perpetrator  if  he  can;  ifnot,herm^ 
wreak  bis  veqgeanoe  upon  the  next  of  kin. 

Of  their  private  and  domestic  lile»  Judge  A.  furnished  me  imaqgr 
.interesting  partioulars.  Marriage  is  not  a  matter  of  much  &rmali^ 
with  them.  If  not  suited  with  eaoh  other  upon  trial,  they  separata 
jimieably,  and  Jthe  wife  returns  with  her  children  to  her  parents,  aia4 
^tbey  try  their  iuck  iptntil  they  are  suited.  And  yet,  they  are  general]^ 
'■ftitMil  to  tbeir  marriage  vows.  Polygamy  prevails  to  but  a  limitad 
axtent.  Ifa  man  takes  more  than  one  wiih^itis  a  sui^  indioationlillt 
■ha  is  moce  than- an  ordinary  hunter. 

'Mothera,  be  said,  wane  wery  fond  of  ^Mr  children.  WhrnAi^f 
4i^  thej  would  make  im^g^a  of  them^iand  .nursa  ttem  fi»r  tajrear 
.^iifter  they  had  bean  in  ttseir  |;i&^ces. 

The -wife,  upon  the  deeeaae  of  her  ^huaban^  btmdl^  ;up  ,her  phciyt 

dothef^y-aad  carries  them  wherever  js^:gi9^,  calling  them  her  iH«rt>aiMly 

,i[>r  a  year  or.ijbyra,  when  her  husband's  brother  gjeneraUy  takes  tk/m^ 

and  she  is  free  to  marry  again,  it  being  considered  disgraceful  for^har 

Id  many  hefooe.    fiomatmu^thB  brothsr  himself  >liakea  ter.nt  the 

;Jiuflft»aod's.grave. 

The  women  do  all  the  drudgery,  not  by  compulsion,  but  froi^Dhah^t 
^and  oheia^  and  'becaow  itbey  would  thkifc  it  a  difgra^  to  \^y^  their 
rhiwbands^dorit. 

M^ny  other  partieularstilliiatrative  of  rbdianilifi  w^arnaimted  .Iff 
.iJ«4ge  A^^  tat  Ihese  mast  avffiea. 


*U0  NOTBS  FROM  LAKK  SUPERIOR 


N     • 


No.  m. 

Exploring  Tow — Cascades — Water  FaUs — Troui  Ftsking — Geology^  etc 

Ontonagaw,  August  7. 

At  La  Point,  eighty  miles  from  the  head  of  the  lake,  four  of  us 
banded  together,  made  a  purchase  of  a  small  sail  boat,  (somewhat  lai^er 
than  au  Indian  canoe,)  laid  in  stores,  consisting  of  hard  biscuit,  pork, 
etc,  together  with  hunting  and  fishing  apparatus,  and  by  six  o'clock  in 
the  evening  of  the  day  we  arrived  we  were  ready  for  se«. 

It  was  a  late  hour  in  the  day  to  set  sail,  but  we  had  a  fine  breeze, 
and  we  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  improve  it.  Our  little  craft 
was  soon  put  upon  her  course,  and  she  scud  briskly  before  the  wini 
Late  as  it  was,  we  were  determined  to  hear  the  falls  of  Montreal  river, 
twenty  miles  distant,  before  we  slept.  The  breeze  freshened,  and  our 
little  cockle-shell  danced  from  billow  to  billow  in  gallant  style.  The 
novelty  and  prettyness  of  the  thing  pleased  me  much.  The  pure, 
strong,  cool  breeze  which  bore  us  onward,  played  delightfully  around 
US,  while  the  mild  beams  of  the  setting  sun  quivered  upon  the  waters. 

The  sun  went  down,  but  there  was  a  moon  to  cheer  us  on  our  way. 
The  breeze,  lyowever,  became  fitful,  and  only  came  in  occasional  pufi, 
and  it  was  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  we  arrived  at  the  moutii 
of  Montreal  river.  The  moon  went  down,  it  was  quite  dark,  and  the 
dashing  of  the  breakers  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  mingled  with  the 
roar  of  the  cataract,  fell  dismally  upon  the  ear.  But  an  attempt  must 
be  made  to  land,  and  we  fiirled  sails,  headed  in,  plied  the  oar,  and 
dashed  in  among  the  breakers.  Long  and  tedious  was  the  struggle; 
sometimes  it  seemed  as  though  we  should  be  carried  back  or  swamped 
in  spite  of  us,  but  we  triumphed  at  last,  and  landed  in  safety. 

Our  camp-fire  was  soon  blazing  before  us,  and  the  atmosphere  savory 
with  ihe  perfumes  of  ihe  frying  pork — ^we  had  a  delicious  repast,  **» 
feast  of  fat  things."  By  two  o'clock  we  had  spread  our  blankets  upon 
the  damp  grass,  and,  with  a  pole  for  a  pillow,  the  heavens  for  a  canopy, 
and  the  611s  and  the  surf  to  sing  a  lullaby,  we  dropped  sweetly  to 
sleep. 

Morning  broke,  we  awoke  refreshed,  and  were  all  astir  for  hreakftsl^ 
which  was  soon  prepared  and  dispatched,  when  we  were  ready  (or  a 
jaunt  into  the  interior. 

The  Montreal  river,  (which  separates  Michigan  from  Wisoonsfni) 
discharges,  perhaps,  a  larger  body  of  water  than  any  other  river  upon 
this  peninsula,  except  the  Ontonagan — ^and  only  a  quarter  of  a  niile 
fi*om  its  mouth,  and  in  full  view  from  the  lake,  it  pitches  down  a 
precipice  near  sixty  feet  in  height.    The  tumbling,  roaring  waters,  the 


AN  EXPLORAFrON  TOUR.  4«1 

boiling  abyss,  the  rising  mist,  the  glittering  foam,  the  towering  ledges^ 
and  the  overhanging  forest,  all  combine  to  form  the  picturesque  scene. 

But  the  principal  falls  are  three  miles  above  (bj  the  river),  and 
thither  we  directed  our  steps.  We  had  anticipated  much,  but  We 
were  not  disappointed.  There  is  a  subdued  grandeur  here,  a  sublimit j 
softened  down  by  its  accompanying  beauties,  which  strikes  the  beholder 
as  by  an  irresistible  fascination.  For  a  mile  or  two  above  these  falls, 
the  river  comes  tumbling  and  foaming  down  its  rocky  channel,  when  the 
whole  volume  of  water  gathers  itself  up,  and  dashes  itself  down  a  preci- 
pice of  eighty-three  feet  at  two  leaps,  in  quick  succession ;  and  then, 
again,  it  tumbles  and  foafns  along  among  the  rocks  below,  as  it  did  above, 
all  the  way  down  to  the  lower  fall,  above  spoken  of,  the  banks  rising 
from  one  to  three  hundred  feet,  sometimes  walled  perpendicularly  up, 
crowned  with  evergreens,  and  barely  affording  room  enough  for  tlie 
gurgling  waters,  and  sometimes  sloping  gracefully  back  in  steep 
aodlvities,  attired  in  verdant  beauty. 

For  several  miles  above  the  higher  rapids,  above  mentioned,  the 
river  flows  quietly  along,  meandering,  sometimes,  through  extensive 
natural  meadows,  and  sometimlBS  through  the  unbroken  stillness  of  the 
forest,  and  then,  again,  the  roar  of  another  cataract  breaks  upon  the 
ear.  We  did  not  ascend  so  high  up,  but  the  glimpses  we  had,  raised 
*a  strong  desire  in  me  to  gaze  upon  the  interesting  scenes  which  were 
veiled  in  the  forest  beyond  us.    But  that  was  impossible. 

We  had  come  in  by  an  Indian  trail  which  meandered  here  and  there, 
doubling  the  distanoe.  Upon  the  height  of  ground,  nine  hundred  feet^ 
I  think,  above  the  surface  of  the  lake,  we  passed  a  belt  of  conglomerate 
jook  many  hundreds  of  feet  in  thickness.  Small  stones  and  pebbles, 
of  harder  rocks,  of  different  kinds,  rounded  and  smoothed,  as  by  the 
aetion  of  water,  appear  at  intervals  upon  the  surface,  as  though  bedded 
in  the  hard  earth  beneath  *,  but,  upon  trying  to  loosen  them*,  it  is  found 
thafe  they  are  bedded  into,  and  constitute  a  part  of  the  rock. 

A  little  fiirther  on  we  passed  through  an  old  Indian  sugar  bush,  ftba 
bodies  of  the  trees  being  all  scarred  around  from  the  effects  of  tapping 
for  a  long  succession  of  years.  As  many  as  twenty-six  of  these  ooa- 
trie$$^  or  ratiier  unhealed  indsions,  were  counted  upon  a  single  tree. 

Next  we  came  to  a  patch  of  wild  gooseberries,  and  then  to  quit  • 
field  (which  had  been  formerly  cleared  by  a  squatter)  of  red  raspber* 
lies,  ss  fine  flavored,  and  many  of  them  as  large  as  the  Antwerps,  or 
maj  other  garden  variety.  Thej  were  just  ripe,  and  the  field  waa 
ftirly  red  with  them, «  sight  luxurious  to  behold,  especially  in  oar 
case,  from  the  fi»t  tfiat  they  were  so  delicious  to  the  taste.  Not  a 
bird  had  disturbed  them,  nor  did  we  see  one,  save  a  covey  of  pheasants 


f4ts  Noass  imm  uca  giFFiuoR 

«>■*■■  .i»«.    I  ■  ■  -     ....I..-  .  .       !■      ■■!  I    I      ■■■■    ■■     ■■■■■    ■    M^M^^— »» 

^rUob  W0.«tetod^  £roiii  4lie  oidtt  of  thani,  and>ft  liMe  inns  ^vm  s^ 
4nUii  ^mawr  rdturo^^wbich  is  a ^fopoof  of  a  Fiiiunii  vliiflh  has  Immh 
;  wmd^t  timt  the  iilile  ^ivacblwB  io^  te»  hover  oromd  Ae  habiUlMnB  of 
AUNB,  «nd.are  q^ldom.fouiid.beyovil  the  foot-^rkite  of  jMvilMHitfqn 

'Ihe^oU  wetrnv^ned  B-of-jnoxeelUatgiuJil^.  ,Neor  AexiKfemth 
tof  the  river  «  ete^ring  wne  fonaerly  made  b^  the  Asmnom  ffmr 
Gamfmff  {this  hA¥itig  been  one  of  their  tndnig  .pMta),'m4i  ttom^ 
loi^  aiaoeabaadooed  md  ovexgrowa  with  small  treee,.thei»  eiro.iDMig^ 
jQpen  phboee  onit  where  the  .tiaiothj  end  red  u^p  weve  iip  to  mf  dwi. 
In  Bome  plaeea  these  were,h«d  bushee,  and  at  otfaen  along  the  wy, 
4he  :»qgar  mi^ple,  whiah  Always  indicate  a  rieh  Aoil;  and  the  bemlMlL 
.lend  we  paaaed  oirer  gave  evidence  enongh  of  a  prodnetivofiCM].  Upon 
Ae  land  whene.the  Boglkh  grass  was  gtomia^  ao  liunuriani^;^  4 
/OhsM^ed>  the  white  biroh  and  the  pc^ar,  or  aspen,  in  a  floorieiii^'estt- 
(dition,  k  is  a  good  agricultiuffal  countiy.  It  is  alsorioh  in  mineml 
wealth,  the  principal  range  of  oopper-heariqg,  or  am^gdalmd  'tmf^ 
4toases  tber  river  faeee,  showing  ma^f  wdl«defined.and:promW9g  ^nfns ; 
,but  I  may  speak  of  this  in  another  eonneetiosL 

Making  our  way  bask  to  our  encampment,  we  partook  of  niefiraA- 
mentSy  and  .a  iresh  breese^riogii^  np  in  the  right  qusapter,  wesgafci 
rsait  8ail,!|«8tbefiHre  sundown,  directing  our  oouraeto  the  moatfi  of  illia 
'Black  river,  twenty  miles  hirther  down  the  lake,  where  wearrivcj|:iqsl 
before  one  in  the  momia^  Finding  an  inhabited  house  faeiie, 
ooenpaats  (a  Frenohmaaand  aaquaw)  were  absent,  weliook.poisse>i|on, 
and  had «.good  night's  or  rath^  morning's  oest,  and  hes]dea,«eve, 
.<AiHiately  sheltered  from  a  heavy  jbll  of ,  nain. 

The  Blank  river  is  not  qnite  ao  large  as  the  Montsesl,  buA  jnaa4f 
tivsia  it  in  .precipitous  dnseent.  Jt  origtiiateB  on  the  north-weatisi^^ 
uof  the  Poroapine>  mountains,  and  eomcsfroUcking  down  thev  dsdli% 
(ities,  and  Jbhrou^  and  down  their  intenaediate  :saiigea»  JoapiAg  .6041 
precipice  to  pcenipice,  boiling  jtind  feamisg  in  wUd  and  ^anpNlt 
itapetnosi^. 

.  The  breeae  being  .ftalhand  .favonaUe,  we  teH^mharhcli  isnd  mmi^ 
hocne  more  npidl(y  «n  iiiiir  wi^,'tban  ,nt  Mnj^^irmiom  rSt^iof-Aa 
voyage.  •  Itfairiy.  alarmed  me  to/see  our  .miniiUiire  ship  «unm«ig*iifsp. 
rfafirside,  and  ooeasionally  dipping  in  water  over  her  gun^waler;  liut  I 
eanaidered  any  self  m  safe,  hands  and  that  quieted  all  appt*<h<#ai^il« 

Onmmd  we  Bew, passing rfisat,  ''Little  6irra  Point,''  then  ''IChs 
-Lone  Bock,"  and  then  douUiog  ^^C^peiHom,"  we  wefe.broug|bti!J|g||l 
ivnder  the  lea  of  the.Poroupineimountains,  whosehighest  peak-fiaea4P 
dtbB>  faiBight  of  thirteen  hondtred  tfeet  lahove  the  kivel  of  the  Jake. . 


I 


VOL.  1.] 


OCTOBER,  1857. 


[NO.  10. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


BT  UIT.  GIO.  DtrvriAD,  Ih  1». 


I  had  not  time  to  examine  attentively,  the  numerous  monuments  and 
tombs  of  popes,  &o.,  contained  in  this  temple,  nor  the  mosaics  that 
adorn  the  altars  of  the  chapels  along  the  aisles ;  but  was  occasionally 
arrested  by  the  beauty  and  excellence  with  which  they  seem  to  have 
been  executed. 

By  the  polite  attention  of  Major  Cass  our  efficient  Charge  d'  Affiuret 
at  Bome,  we  were  furnished  with  an  order,  from  the  director  of  the 
Fabbri^  of  St.  Peters,  for  ascending  the  dome.  It  enabled  us  to  form 
a  better  idea  of  the  immensity  of  the  edifice,  than  all  we  had  previous- 
ly seen.  The  ascent  to  the  roof,  is  by  means  of  a  broad  paved  spiral 
way,  of  such  a  gentle  grade,  that  you  might  ride  up  on  a  horse  or  don- 
key with  ease.  It  well  suited  my  physical  debility,  and  taking  it 
leisurely,  I  accomplished  it  without  difficulty.  I  thought  of  how 
many  thousands  had  traveled  up  the  same  way,  and  of  trhat  great 
variety  of  character,  condition,  and  nation  they  had  been,  aa  I  saw  on 
the  walls,  tablets  containing  the  names  of  royal  personages  who  had 
made  the  ascent 

Coming  out  upon  the  roof  of  the  building,  you  are  surprised  to  find 
rows  of  domes,  large  enough  for  ordinary  churches,  not  noticeable 
from  below,  covering  the  different  chapels  along  the  aisles.  There  are 
also  shops  and  habitations  for  workmen,  constantly  employed  in 
repairs  upon  the  building,  which  with  the  domes  sssume  the  appear- 
ance, rather  of  a  little  village,  than  of  the  summit  of  a  temple,  while 
a  fountain  of  water,  ever  flowing,  helps  to  increase  the  illusion.  I 
have  read  that  during  the  siege  of  Rome,  in  1849,  by  the  French 
army,  much  damage  was  done  to  the  roof  of  the  building,  and  the 
masonry  of  the  dome,  balls  having  fiJlen  upon  or  hit  no  less  than 
eighty  different   places  of  the  building.      The  most   tediou«  and 

VOL.  I  KO.  X. — ^28. 


434  KOTBS  OF  FOBEIGK  TRA7BL. 

laborious  part  of  the  ascent,  was  through  the  passages  and  up  the 
staircases,  that  wind  between  the  inner  and  outer  walls.  The  ball  is 
of  bronze,  gilt,  eight  feet  in  diameter,  and  lai^e  enough  to  hold  sixteen 
persons.  Our  company,  consisting  of  some  six  or  eight  persona, 
entered  it.  Mr^  Barnes,  Dr.  Hamilton,  Z)r.  Hall,  myself  and  others, 
having  enjoyed  the  magnificent  prospect,  united  in  singing,  to  the  tune 
of  Old  Hundred,  the  christian  Doxology,  while  we  were  thus  raised 
idoft  some  four  hundred  feet  in  the  air. 

The  view  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  finest  in  Europe.  Rome  lay  at 
our  feet,  ^d  it  seemed  as  if  we  could  look  down  into  every  part  of  itL 
Her  desolate  campagna  spread  out  its  wide  extent  before  us,  ranging 
from  the  Apennines  to  the  Mediterranean.  As  I  gazed  upon  the  wide 
waste  of  desolate  region,  I  thought  of  the  still  more  awful  desolation 
coming,  at  no  distant  day,  when,  like  a  stone  in  the  water.  Home  shall 
«ittk  to  rise  no  more ;  and  all  this  georgeous  pile  of  buildings,  with  all 
the  pomp  and  magnificence  of  this  "  Great  city  of  Babylon,  with  vk*- 
lence  shall  be  thrown  down,  and  shall  be  found  no  more  at  all  f** 
** Alleluia  :  salvation  and  glory  and  honor  and  power  unto  the  Lord 
our  God"  shall  be  tho  shout  of  "much  people  in  heaven"  when  He 
i^all  *^ avenge  the  blood  of  His  servants  at  her  hand,"  and  "her 
crmoke  rise  up  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen."  Alleluia?  However 
great  may  be  the  lamentations  of  the  votaries  of  her  fine  arts,  and 
terrible  the  destruction  of  the  works  of  genius,  the  world  will  ba 
inconceivably  the  gainer  by  the  desolation. 

As  I  looked  down  from  the  ball,  I  observed  on  the  bands  of  the 
dome,  the  permanent  fixtures  there  applied  for  facilitating  the  splendid 
illumination  of  this  great  temple,  which  takes  place  during  "  t^  holy 
week."  It  is  said  that  three  hundred  and  eighty-two  men  are  employed 
to  light  the  lamps,  some  six  thousand  eight  hundred  in  number,  attached 
to  every  column,  qpmice,  frieze,  and  the  outside  of  the  dome  to  tile 
very  summit  of  the  cross.  The  cross  is  sixteen  feet  in  height  and 
■surmounts  the  whole,  to  which  access  is  had  by  a  small  iron  ladder, 
winding  around  the  extension  of  the  ball.  So  perfect  is  the  arnuiga- 
ment,  and  the  skill  of  the  persons  employed,  that  accidents  very  rarely 
happen.  As  soon  as  the  bell  has  sounded  the  first  stroke  of  9  o'clodk, 
nine  hundred  lamps  instantaneously  glare  as  if  lighted  by  eneh^t- 
ment,  and  in  eight  seconds,  before  the  last  stroke  has  ceased  to  socmd, 
the  architecture  of  this  gigantic  temple  becomes  one  brilliant  blaze  0f 
light,  a  firmament  of  fire. 

'  We  did  not  happen  to  be  in  Rome  during  any  festival  when  apy  €f 
4he  great  pageants  of  the  ceremon'ttl  worship  ore  wont  to  be  pia<fenaad 
in  Sk  Fetor's,  asd  therefor^  had  to  eontfott  ourselves  with  a  mi^n 


9ms  PALAOft  09  THE  PCH^S. 


examinstion  of -the  building,  and  reading  the  accounts  given  of 

From  St.  Peter's  we  pac»ed  to  the  Vaticany  the  palace  of  the  Poyei 
adjoining.  It  also  is  an  immense  pile  of  buildings.  It  has  been  irre^^ 
ularlj  constructed,  by  different  popes,  with  different  designs  and  tastes, 
during  a  period  of  more  than  four  hundred  years.  It  is  1150  feet 
long  and  767  broad.  Hic  guide  books  say,  that  it  has  eight  grand 
staircases,  two  hundred  of  smaller  character,  twenty  courts,  and  four 
thousand  four  hundred  and  twenty-two  apartments,  covering  aspaee^ 
wifli  its  gardens,  as  large  as  the  city  of  Turin.  There  is,  perhaps,  no 
palace  in  the  world,  which,  by  its  important  position  in  the  history  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  ss  the  residence  of  its  great  Pontifex  Maxi* 
mus,  as  well  as  by  the  influence  of  its  museums  upon  the  taste,  learning 
'and  science .  of  christian  nations,  has  excited  so  much  inta*est,  for  now 
nearly  three  hundred  years,  as  this  has  done. 

On  entering,  you  meet  a  small  detachment  of  the  Swiss  guards  at 
the  gate;  passing  them,  you  ascend  a  famous  stair-case  of  two 
fjights,  decorated  with  Ionic  columns,  pilasters,  and  stucco  ornaments. 
It  leads  to  the  royal  hall  of  audience  for  Ambassadors.  Among  the 
'fine  paintings  which  adorn  its  walls,  three  especially  arrest  the  atten- 
tion of  a  protcstant,  because  expressive  of  the  proud,  presumptuous, 
and  persecuting  spirit  of  popery.  One  is  the  absolution  of  the  pu- 
sillanimous emperor,  Henry  IV,  by  that  ambitious  tyrant,  Plildebrand, 
correctly  but  vulgarly  called  Hellhrand^  Pope  Gregory  VII,  whose 
history  proved  him  to  be  destitute  of  all  principle,  utterly  devoid  of 
conscience,  dead  to  every  pious  and  virtuous  feeling,  impetuous,  obsti- 
nate, un tractable,  and  boastful  of  his  power  to  pull  down  the  pride  of 
kings.  That  weak-minded  Emperor,  affrighted  by  Gregory's  act  of 
deposition,  during  a  winter  of  unusual  severity  crossed  the  Alps  with 
a  determination  to  submit,  and  seek  the  pope's  absolution.  He  was 
admitted,  without  his  guard,  into  an  outer  court  of  the  castle  at  Garros- 
'sa,  near  Reggio,  where  Gregory  was  at  the  time,  and  having  been  kept 
*three  successive  days  from  morning  till  night,-  in  a  woolen  sheet,  with 
*bare  feet,  fasting  and  doing  penance,  the  humbled  Emperor  was  per- 
'mitted  to  enter  the  palace,  and  enjoy  the  lofty  honor  of  kisainff  Ae 
pope^s  toe  f  He  subsequently  received  absolution  from  the  haug^ity 
and  arrogant  blasphemer,  the  memory  of  which  outrage  is  preeerred 
among  the  decorations  of  this  hall. 

The  second  picture  is  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  ^t  feid 

scene  of  wanton  blood  and  murder,  whidi,more  than  any  liring  else  in 

^the  history  of  popery,  illustrates  .its  cruel  and  odious  persecuting 

^'spirit.     1  thought  how  little  do  tSie  apologists  of  that  vast  system  of 

'iniquity,  who  have  of  late  risen  in  our  cbuwtry,  and  who    uo   v  '- 


4M  KOTBS'OF  FORBION  TBAYSL 


andertake  to  tell  us  that  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  has  mellowed 
the  hearts  of  its  professors,  and  would  itself  now  condemn  such  scenes 
of  butchery — now,  what  is  its  real  spirit  ?  Here  is  a  gorgeous  paint- 
ing of  the  worse*  than  brutal  scene,  spread  before  the  ejes  of  the  pope 
in  the  audience  hall  of  the  Ambassadors,  to  delight  the  blood  thirstj 
^nrant,  and  to  proclaim  how  cordially  that  foul  massacre  is  yet  at  this 
day  approved  and  honored  at  Rome.  They  ought  to  be  so  ashamed 
,of  it  as  to  blot  it  out  forever. 

The  third  painting,  intended  here  to  glorify  the  papal  tyranny,  is 
that  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa  receiving  the  blessing  from 
Pope  Alexander  III,  in  the  piazza  of  St  Mark,  at  Venice.  The  Pope 
bad  deposed  the  Emperor,  and  dissolved  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  him 
taken  by  his  subjects.  Soon  after  he  made  himself  master  of  Rome, 
the  insolent  pontiff  fled  to  Benevento.  Environed  and  dejected  with 
difficulties,  the  Emperor  concluded  a  peace  with  Alexander  at  VenioOi 
where,  after  having  heard  the  Pope  preacb  a  Latin  discourse  (of  wUdi 
he  did  not  understand  a  word)  in  the  great  temple  of  St.  Mark,  he 
approached  his  persoil,  and  kissed  his  feet ;  and  having  received  kis 
blessing,  as  he  came  from  the  church,  led  the  white  mule  on  which  his 
^  holiness  "  rode  through  St.  Mark's  square.  When  the  humbled  Em- 
peror kissed  one  foot  of  the  haughty  pontiff^  he  placed  the  other  upon 
his  neck,  impiously  repeating  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "  Thou  shalt 
tread  upon  the  lion  and  the  adder,  the  young  lion  and  the  dragon  shalt 
thou  trample  under  foot'* 

Had  they  the  power,  the  popes  of  modem  days  would  do  the  same 
things  still,  for  they  preserve,  with  admiration,  the  records  of  the 
haughtj  deeds  of  their  predecessors. 

From  this  '*  Sala  Regia,"  you  pass  to  the  Sistine  Chapel,  *'  Capella 
Bistina,"  so  called  from  Sixtus  IV,  by  whom  it  was  built^  and  of 
which  it  forms  a  sort  of  vestibule.  It  is  properly  the  private  palace- 
chapel  of  the  pope,  to  which  the  genius  of  Michael  Angelo  has  given 
a  world-wide  celebrity.  It  is  a  lofty  apartment  of  oblong  form,  135 
feet  by  45,  with  a  gallery  around  three  of  its  sides.  The  large  fresco 
paintings  of  the  ceiling,  represent  the  creation  of  the  sun  and  moon^ 
the  creation  of  Adam,  the  fiill  and  expulsion  of  our  first  parents  from 
Paradise,  and  the  Deluge ;  and  the  smaller,  the  gathering  of  the 
waters,  the  separating  of  the  light  from  the  dailmess,  the  creating  of 
JEive,  the  sacrifice  of  Noah,  and  his  drunkenness. 

The  most  of  these  paintings  are  of  very  bold  design^  and  have  given 
unbounded  fame  to  their  author.  I  was  particularly  struck  with  the 
manner  in  which  the  serpent  is  represented  as  having  the  head  of  e 
woman,  and  at  the  exquisite  personification  of  female  beauty  in  the 


THE  GBEAT  JUDQWSHT.  43t 

■  II .  I ,  I .  ■     I,  .  I  ■> 

figure  of  Eve.  The  great  fresco  painting  of  this  diapel,  howeveTi 
ytinak  is  generally  so  much  admired  by  travelers,  is  that  of  "  The 
Last  Judgment."  It  occupies  the  end  wall,  fronting  the  entrance,  and 
is  60  feet  high  and  30  broad.  I  was  greatly  disappointied  in  this  pio* 
ture,  and  on  other  grounds  than  my  aversion  to  all  such  representations^ 
which  seem  to  me  to  wear  the  impress  of  impiety ;  nor  could  I,  with 
all  the  attempt  I  made,  catch  the  spirit  of  the  piece,  or  fall  under  the 
force  of  its  illusion,  as  others  have  sometimes  done.  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  describe  this  painting,  but  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  curious 
will  give  it  in  the  language  of  another. 

"  In  the  upper  paft  of  the  picture,  is  the  Saviour  seated  with  the 
Virgin  on  his  right  hand,  which  is  extended  in  condemnation.  AbovOi 
in  the  angles  of  the  vault,  are  groups  of  angels  bearing  the  instruments 
of  the  passion.  On  the  right  of  the  Saviour,  are  the  hosts  of  saints  and 
patriarchs,  and  on  the  left,  the  martyrs,  with  the  symbols  of  their  sufi 
ferings.  St.  Catharine  may  be  recognized  with  her  wheel,  St.  Barthol* 
omew  with  his  skin,  St.  Sebastian  with  his  armor,  St.  Peter  restoring 
the  keys,  etc.  Below  is  a  group  of  angels  sounding  the  last  trumps 
and  bearing  the  books  of  life  and  death.  On  their  left  is  represented 
the  fall  of  the  damned ;  the  demons  are  seen  coming  out  of  the  pit  to 
seize  them,  as  they  struggle  to  escape ;  their  features  express  the 
utmost  despair,  contrasted  with  the  wildest  passions  of  rage,  anguishi 
aiid  defiance ;  Charon  is  ferrying  another  group  across  the  Styx,  and 
is  striking  down  the  rebellious  with  his  oar,  in  accordance  with  the 
description  of  Dante,  from  which  Michael  Angelo  sought  inspiration* 
"  *  Batte  col  remo  qualunquo's  adagia.'      • 

On  the  opposite  side  the  blessed  are  rising,  slowly  and  in  uncertainty, 
from  their  graves ;  some  are  seen  ascending  to  heaven ;  while  saints  and 
angels  are  assisting  them  to  rise  into  the  regions  of  the  blessed.  It  is  im* 
possible  to  examine  these  details  without  appreciating  the  tremendous 
power  by  which  the  composition  is  pre-eminently  distinguished.  The 
imagination  never  realized  a  greater  variety  of  human  passicns,  and  art 
has  never  yet  so  completely  triumphed  over  such  difficulties  of  execu- 
tion. The  boldness  of  the  drawing,  the  masterly  fore-shortening  of  the 
figures,  the  anatomical  details — ^all  combine  to  make  it  the  most  extn^ 
ordinary  picture  in  the  history  of  art.  The  conception  is  such  as  the 
genius  of  Michael  Angelo  alone  could  have  embodied ;  and  the  result 
is  full  of  grandeur  and  sublimity." 

I  cannot  say  that  the  painting  had  any  such  effect  pn  me.  Some 
things  in  it  exceedingly  displeased  me,  as  the  terrible  aspect  of  the 
Saviour,  the  want  of  appropriate  distinction  in  the  expression  of  the 
saved  and  the  lost,  and  the  nude  appearance  of  the  figures.    I  could 


18a  N0TB8  OF  FORHIGN  TRAVBL 

Qofc  but  ftmile  at  tbe  proo^  which  popery  gave  in  this  picture,  of  bar 
keying  adopted  and  incorporated  into  her  system  of  falsehood,  tlia 
taythologieal  fables  of  the  ancient  pagans,  thus  showing  what  a  near 
relationship  she  owns  to  the  old  idolatry. 

It  is  reported  that  Pope  Paul  IV  took  offence  at  the  nudity  of  tfaa 
figures,  and  wished  tlie  whole  destroyed.  The  artist,  on  hearing  the 
objection  of  his  holiness,  replied,  "  let  him  reform  the  world,  and  the 
pictures  will  reform  themselves/'  Some  of  the  most  prominent  figuresi 
however,  were  covered  with  drapery,  by  an  artist  whom  the  Popo 
employed, — thence  called  "the  breeches  maker,"  Michael  Angdo 
bad  to  submit  to  the  Pope^s  pleasure,  but  he  revenged  himself  on 
Messer  Biagio,  of  Siena,  the  master  of  the  ceremonies,  who  first  sug- 
gested the  indelicacy  of  tbe  figures,  by  introducing  his  likeness,  in  the 
right  angle  of  the  picture,  standing  in  hell  as  Midas  with  an  ass^s  eai^^ 
end  his  body  surrounded  by  a  serpent.  The  offisnded  dignitary  com- 
plained to  the  Pope,  who  requested  the  artist  to  alter  it.  But  M« 
Angelo  declared  "  that  was  impossible,  for  although  his  holiness  was 
able  to  release  from  purgatory,  he  had  no  power  over  hell."  Biagio 
therefore  remains  in  his  sad  position.  The  damps  of  nearly  three 
eenturies,  and  the  smoke  of  candles  and  incense,  during  that  time,  have 
greatly  impaired  the  brightness  of  its  colors,  yet  still  it  has  great 
attractions  for  travellers,  and  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  Rome.  I 
ihould  much  have  preferred  to  hear  the  music  performed  in  this  chapel 
en  great  occasions,  especially  the  "  miserere  "  during  "  passion  week,"  to 
anything  I  saw  there.  But  we  do  not  happen  to  be  in  Ronie  at  a 
&vorable  time  for  witnessisg  any  of  their  great  fetes. 

Passing  from  the  Sistine  Chapel,  we  made  a  tour  through  the  differ- 
tat  corridors,  galleries  of  paintings,  and  museums,  of  this  extensive 
palace,  stopping  occasionally  to  examine  some  particular  works  of  arft^ 
or  objects  of  curiosity,  that  especially  attracted  attention.  I  should 
eot  be  able  to  enumerate  the  chambers,  or  even  class  the  various 
eollections  of  statuary,  paintings,  vases,  antiquities — Egyptian,  Etrus- 
oan,  Grecian,  and  Roman,  that  enrich  this  treasure  house  of  the  papal 
pontiff.  Among  the  paintings,  those  of  Raphael,  in  the  Camera  della 
Signature,  illustrative  of  theology,  poetry,  philosophy  and  jurispru- 
dence, fbmisH  perhaps  the  best  specimens  of  the  learning,  fancy,  and 
power  of  this  celebrated  artist.  His  celebrated  Transfiguration  of 
Christ,  in  another  gallery,  is  his  best  and  greatest  effort.  But  I  was 
efiended  by  the  utter  want  of  a  sense  of  propriety  manifested  by  the 
introduotion  of  St.  Julien  and  St^  Lawi-ence,  who  did  not  live  for  centu- 
ries ailer  the  event,  into  the  scene  as  ex^clesiastics  kneeling  on  the 
W>uat  in  adoration  of  the  mystery.     Similar  aaachroniBnm  I  observed 


PAINTINGS.  439 

in  other  celebrated  pMntings,  especially  in  the  Madoima  throned  in  the 
douds,  from  the  hand,  also,  of  Raphael.  She  is  represented  in  heaven 
with  the  infant  Jesus  in  her  arms,  and  St.  Jerome  who  lived  in  the 
seventh  century,  recommending  to  her  protection  Sigismundi  Conti, 
chief  secretary  of  Julius  II,  who  paid  for  the  painting.  An  angel  is 
represented  in  the  midst  of  the  picture,  holding  a  tablet,  on  which, 
emblasoned  in  letters  of  gold,  are  the  author's  and  donor's  names,  and 
the  date.  In  the  background  is  seen  a  bomb-shell  falling  on  the  city 
of  Foligno.  The  power  of  expression,  and  the  beauty  of  features  in 
the  countenances  of  the  figures,  especially  of  Sigismundi,  constitute 
the  chief  excellence  of  the  painting.  Of  all  the  paintings  I  saw,  that 
which  most  displeased  me  was  one,  like  what  I  had  elsewhere  seen,  la 
which  an  attempt  is  made  to  represent  the  ever  blessed  Trinity.  The 
Father  appears  as  an  old,  gray-headed  man,  the  Son  as  a  n^an  in 
full  vigor,  and  the  Spirit  as  a  dove  hovering  above  both.  This  last 
idea  of  representing  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  shape  of  a  dove,  is  to  my 
mind  perfectly  absurd,  for  the  point  of  resemblance  referred  to  by  the 
Evangelist  describing  the  descent  of  the  Spirit,  is  not  in  the  form  o^ 
the  appearance,  but  the  manner  of  its  descending  motion.  By  a  refe- 
rence to  the  syntactic  construction  of  the  original  Greek  expressions 
this  will  be  clearly  seen.  The  luminous  appearance — which  doubtless 
it  was,  as  light  is  always  made  the  symbol  or  representation  of  the 
Spirit — fell  or  floated  down  from  heaven,  in  the  same  manner  that  a 
dove  descends,  and  its  motions  resembled  those  of  that  bird  when 
hovering  before  it  alights.  The  old  Catholic  conceit,  however,  has 
obtained  currency  among  commentators  and  painters.  It  has  actually 
infused  itself  into  our  protestant  hymnology,  and  furnished  to  some  of 
our  uninspired  poets,  very  improperly,  a  title  for  the  blessed  spirit.  A 
superstitious  regard,  too,  for  the  pigeon  or  dove,  as  a  sacred  bird 
eaters  deeply  into  the  religion  of  not  a  few  idolaters,  who  hav9 
persecuted  and  corrupted  so  fatally  the  Christianity  of  the  bible. 
^  Our  time  did  not  permit  us  to  complete  even  a  rapid  walk  through 
all  the  '  haQs  of  this  palace,  and  having  an  engagement  with  Mi^or 
Cass  for  the  afternoon,  I  reserved  a  visit  to  the  museum^  and  library 
for  a  future  opportunity.  He  had  kindly  offered  to  conduct  me  to  the 
Villa  Albani,  to  which  tJie  Pope  occasionally  retires  for  relaxation  iu 
the  summer  months,  and  to  which  access  is  not  freely  or  easily  had  by 
general  visitors.  During  the  revolutionary  troubles  of  1849,  and  tb(» 
oonflict  between  the  Bepublioan  and  French  forces,  our  Charge 
d'  Affaires,  as  well  for  the  purpose  of  its  preservation,  as  for  his  owj) 
convenience,  with  the  approbation  of  the  owner,  made  it  his  abode,  for 
pany  weeks.     The  American  flag  became  its  protection,  and  the 


440  .  NOTES  OF  FORBiaN  TRAVEL. 

agency  of  our  Minister  in  preserving,  during  the  stormy  period  of 
that  disastrous  struggle,  so  many  valuable  works  of  art  from  pillage 
and  destruction,  has  been  felt  and  acknowledged  by  the  authorities  at 
Rome,  as  well  as  by  all  that  can  appreciate  them.  This  Villa  is  about 
100  years  old,  and  was  built  by  Cardinal  Alessandro  AlbanL  It  is 
situated  some  distance  from  the  Porta  Salara,  and  is  said  by  Forsyth 
to  have  been  planned  by  a  profound  antiquary.  Here  Cardinal  Albani, 
having  spent  his  life  in  collecting  ancient  sculpture,  formed  such  por- 
ticos and  such  saloons  to  receive  it,  as  an  old  Roman  would  have  done ; 
porticos  where  the  statues  stood  upon  the  pavement  between 
columns  proportioned  to  their  stature ;  saloons  which  were  not  stocked 
but  embellished  with  &milics  of  allied  statues,  and  seemed  full  with- 
out a  crowd.  Here  Winckelman  grew  into  an  Antiquary  under  the 
Cardinal's  patronage  and  instruction ;  and  here  he  projected  his  history 
of  art,  which  brings  this  collection  continually  into  view." 

During  the  invasion  of  Napoleon,  this  villa  was  plundered  of  nearly 
three  hundred  pieces  of  sculpture ;  and,  although  they  were  afterwards 
(at  the  peace  of  1815)  restored,  the  expense  of  their  removal  necessi- 
ated  the  prince  to  sell  them  all  to  the  King  of  Bavaria,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  celebrated  statue  of  Antinous.  Notwithstanding  this  loss, 
it  is  still  rich  in  the  works  of  genius.  The  villa  retains  all  its  beauty, 
and,  with  its  varied  treasures,  its  chai-ming  grounds  and  garden,  stands 
in  striking  contrast  with  the  devastation  aild  ruin  of  the  Borghese  park 
and  the  scenery  around  it,  produced  by  the  revolution. 

The  portico  of  the  palace  is  sustained  by  twenty-eight  columns  of 
rare  marble,  and  is  adorned  with  statues  of  Juno  descending  from 
Olympus,  of  Tiberius,  Trajan,  Adrian  and  others.  The  galleries, 
some  of  which  are  paved  with  ancient  mosaic,  are  enriched  with 
ancient  sculpture,  among  which  my  attention  was  particularly  directed 
to  the  celebrated  bronze  statue  of  Apollo  Sauroctonos,  pronounced  by 
Winckelman  to  be  "  the  most  exquisite  bronze  statue  in  the  world,** 
and  the  original  work  of  Praxiteles,  so  well  described  by  Pliny.  I 
was  told  that  an  immense  sum — ^ven  half  a  million  of  dollars— has 
been  refused*  for  this  single  statue.  A  very  fine  statue  of  Hercules^ 
in  bronze,  forms  one  of  the  cosUy  treasures  of  this  collection,  the  gem 
of  which  is  the  exquisite  Antinous,  crowned  with  lotus  flowers,  de- 
scribed by  Windcelman,^ — and  which,  he  says,  "after  the  Apollo  and 
the  Laocoon,  is,  perhaps,  the  most  beautiful  monument  of  antiquity 
which  time  has  transmitted  to  us."  It  is  a  has  relief  and,  standing 
over  the  mantie-piece  on  the  chimney,  forms  the  most  conspicuous  and 
attractive  ornament  of  the  room.. 

The  statue  of  Antinous,  already  referred  to,  excited  my  admiratioii 


BUSTS  AND  STATUES^  441 


o^the  skill  of  the  artist,  and  mj  contempt  for  the  odious  and  unnatu- 
ral passion  of  the  corrupt  Roman  and  the  whole  race  of  Granymedes. 
It  is  a  perfect  representation  of  beautj  in  a  young  man,  but  it  is 
chiefly  animal,  with  just  enough  of  the  intellectual  to  render  it  impres- 
sive and  captivating.  The  story  is  here  related,  that  a  young  and 
susceptible  French  girl,  who  had  frequent  opportunities  to  visit  it, 
became  so  desperately  in  love  with  this  statue,  that  she  actually  lost 
her  reason  and  eventually  died  of  mania. 

As  I  strolled  among  the  busts  and  statues  of  antiquity  here  col- 
lected, representing,  in  their  day, — as  do  the  busts  now  formed  our 
own  living  great  men — ^the  poets,  orators,  statesmen,  emperors,  &c., 
of  the  periods  of  classic  story,  my  feelings  were  much  and  singularly 
affected.  I  had  read  and  thought  of  the  old  Grecian  and  Roman 
heroes  and  sages,  but  they  were  viewed  through  the  dim  maze  of  the 
distance  of  centuri^.  When  [  saw  the  very  form  and  features,  as 
originally  taken  by  accomplished  artists,  probably  in  their  day,  of 
such  men  as  Homer,  Demosthenes,  Socrates,  Diogenes,  PericleS| 
Epicurus,  Leonidas,  Alexander  the  Great,  iEsop,  Hannibal,  Cato, 
CSffisar,  Mark  Antony,  Caracalla,  and  various  Roman  emperors,  &a, 
I  confess  that  I  felt  myself  more  deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of 
their  actual  reality,  and  the  parts  they  acted  in  ancient  history,  than  I 
ever  had  been  before. 

Among  the  antiquities  in  this  collection,  my  attention  was  turned 
to  some  ancient  mosaic  of  very  fine  construction,  said  to  h^ve  been 
taken  from  Adrian's  Villa,  into  which  it  was  introduced  as  antique  at 
that  day,  and  now,  at  the  least^  supposed  to  be  2500  years  old.  But, 
among  the  various  bas-reliefs,  taken  from  niythological  story,  here 
preserved,  and  many  of  them  of  exquisite  workmanship,  that  of  Gany- 
mede and  the  Eagle,  it  seemed  to  me,  should  have  found  no  place,  on 
any  pretext  of  antiquity  or  of  its  being  a  work  of  art,  in  a  collection 
for  a  private  dwelling,  or  even  public  museum,  and  especially  of  a 
Gardinal  and  Pope. 

In  the  billiard-room,  which  has  a  portico  of  fourteen  columns,  I 
noticed  statues  of  Bacchus  and  Hyacinthus.  Both  the  use  of  the 
apartment  and  its  ornaments,  are  quite  inappropriate  to  a  priest's 
domicile,  whether  Cardinal  or  Pontiff 

Returning  from  the  Villa  Albani,  we  crossed  the  Quirinal  Hill,  and 
stopped  in  front  of  the  papal  palace,  on  that  mount,  to  look  at  die 
equestrian  statues,  which  have  been  called  Castor  and  Pollux,  by 
modem  antiquaries.  They  are  of  colossal  dimensions,  representing 
fiery  steeds  led  by  their  grooms.  Tliey  are  situated  in  front  of  the 
gate  of  entrance  to  the  Pope's  pahice,  on  the  Monte  CSavallo,  which  is 


i4A  N0TB3  OJP  FOSKEQN  T&AYEL. 

the  highest  point  of  the  long,  narrow  hill,  called  the  Quiruud.  Th^ 
royal  resid^ioe  of  the  Qesars  and  of  the  popes,  has  been,  at  different 
periods  in  the  historj  of  this  proud  city,  on  one  or  another  of  the 
seven  hUls,  which  were  embraced  within  the  area  of  ancient  Rome^ 
Thence  have  been  dated  the  bulls  or  decrees,  fulminated,  sometimesi 
to  the  alarm  of  the  world. 

As  I  looked  upon  this  "  palazzo  pontifico,''  on  Monte  Cavallo, — on^ 
of  the  finest  situations,  in  all  Rome,  for  a  palace — ^and  thought  of  thd 
manner  in  which  the  old  hills  of  Rome  had  been,  and  some  still 
remained,  the  abode  of  the  court,  or  royal  residence, — 1  felt,  more 
forcibly  than  ever,  the  power  and  point  of  the  prophetic  description  of 
the  '^  woman  that  sitteth  upon  a  scarlet-colored  beast,"  whose  aevm 
heads  are  ''seven  mountains,  on  which  the  woman  sitteth'" — ''the 
great  city,  which  reigneth  over  the  kings  of  the  eafth." 

The  colossal  equestrian  group,  which  we  stopped  to  examine,  standi 
on  either  side  of  an  obelisk  of  red  granite,  unadorned  with  hieroglyph^ 
ics,  said  to  have  been  brought  from  Egypt  by  Claudius,  A.  D.  57, 
The  shafl  is  forty-dve  feet  high,  and  the  whole  stands,  from  the  ground 
to  the  summit,  some  ninety-five  feet.  The  statuary^  on  either  side,  is 
the  work  of  Grecian  artists, — Phidias  and  Praxiteles,  if  we  can  believ* 
the  Latin  inscriptions  on  the  pedestalsi.  It  is  said  they  were  found  in  th^ 
baths  of  Constantine,  and  that  there  is  reason  to  believe  they  were  sonx^ 
seven  centuries  older  than  the  age  of  that  emperor.  Pope  Plus  VI 
placed  them  where  they  are — a  sort  of  cherubim  guard  before  the  gate  of 
entrance  to  the  papal  palace.  Pio  Nono,  the  present  pontifi^  is  at  this 
time  resident  in  this  palace,  whence,  I  was  informed,  he  is  expected  to 
remove,  in  a  day  or  two,  to  the  Vatican. 

It  was  about  the  hour  for  his  evening  drive  or  ride,  the  signals  of 
which  were  descried  by  my  friend.  Major  Cass,  who  asked  me  if  t 
wished  to  "  see  His  Holiness" — ^remarking  that  he  was  about  to  take 
his  evening  ride  for  air  and  exercise,  and  that  the  etiquette  of  the 
palace  and  place  required  that  we  should  dismount  from  our  carriage^ 
Having  expressed  my  curiosity  affirmatively,  we  accordingly  alighted 
to  await  the  appearance  of  his  papal  magnificence  and  suite.  A  few 
curious  persons^  and  some  old  men  and  women,  had  placed  themselves 
on  the  piazza,  and  were  in  waiting.  In  a  few  minutes,  a  soldier, 
mounted  on  horseback,  came  out  of  the  gate,  sounding  his  bugle,  A 
few  rods  after  him,  another  followed ;  then  a  third,  at  like  distance^ 
ai,ioceeded  by  four  i^breast.  Directly  after  appeared  the  Pope's  car; 
iiage,  drawn  by  four  horses,  with  a  scarlet^liveried  post-rider  and 
footman.  After  it  followed  a  carriage  with  cardinals,  and  a  third  oof 
with  attendants^-all  in  procession.    Tlie  Pope  rode  alone  in  his 


TH8  POPE. 


oaniage^  robed  in  white  satin,  and  covered  with  a  dose  jcap  of  similar 
materialk  I  stood  near  the  track  along  which  the  carriage  passed, 
which,  being  open,  gave  me  a  fair  opportunity  to  observe  his  features* 
llie  few  old  men  and  women,  of  poor  and  xsagged  appearance,  wbo> 
had  come  for  the  purpose,  kneeled  down,  as  he  rode  by,  and  crossed 
themselves,  imploring  his  blessing — which  he  purported  to  give  bj 
extending  his  open  hand  through  the  window  of  his  carriage.  Major 
Cass  and  myself  gave  the  ordinary  salutation  of  courtesy  and  respect 
common  in  our  own  country,  which  was  politely  returned,  as  ho 
extended  to  him  a  smile  of  recognition.  lie  seemi^d  to  be  a  man  of 
some  sixty  years  of  age,  of  full  habit  and  rather  bland  and  benevolent 
countenance.  From  his  appearance,  I  should  say  he  is  very  accurately 
represented  on  the  Pauls  or  silver  pieces  of  money  current  in  Eome^ 
which  have  been  altered  during  his  pontificate,  and  bear  his  portrait. 
Respect  for  him  personally,  as  the  chief  civil  magistrate  of  Rome,  I 
felt  to  be  his  due ;  but  the  abject  religious  homage  or  adoration  ren- 
dered by  the  few  kneeling  suppliants  before  him,  appeared  despicable 
in  my  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Palaao  RospigUon — Aurora  of  Guido — Church  of  Santa  Marin  Maggiore-^ScaXA 
BoffUa — Bi.  John  (fe  Lateran—  CoUaeumr^Hottae  of  PUaie — Temple  of  Vesta — Ptd 
aee  cfihe  GoBsar^^-Baihs  of  CaracaUa — Cohmbeir — Pantheon: 

October  19. — Our  company,  to-day,  visited  first  the  palace  of  Ro»- 
pigliosi.  It  is  one  of  the  private  abodes  of  the  Roman  nobility,  built| 
originally,  on  a  portion  of  the  site  of  the  baths  of  Constantine,  by 
Cardinal  Scipio  Borghese.  It  was  once  the  residence  of  the  ^&mou8 
Cardinal  Mazarin,  who  exerted  such  a  powerful  influence  in  the  gov- 
ernment of  France,  and  ratified  a  treaty  with  Cromwell,  one  of  whose 
conditions  was  the  refusal  of  an  asylum  in  France  to  Charles  I.  From  v 
being  the  residence  of  the  French  ambassadors,  it  passed  into  the 
hands  of  tke  Rospigliosi  &mily. 

The  chief  attraction  is  the  paintings  it  contains,  and  more  especially 
the  famous  Aurora  of  Guido,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  frescoes  in 
Bome«  I  never  saw  a  picture  before  that  so  much  delighted  me,  and 
filled  me  with  such  admiraticm  of  the  painter's  art.  The  morning 
dawn  is  exhibited  as  a  goddess,  according  to  the  old  Roman  mythoU 
egj,  who  is  represented  as  watering  flowers  before  the  chariot  of  the 
sun,  drawn  by  four  piebald  horses,  while  seven  exquisitely-graceful 
fi|inale  figures  surround  its  wheels^  personifying  the  Hours  advancing. 


444  NOTES  OP  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


Hie  coloring  is  exceedingly  brilliant,  and  the  expression  of  the  coun- 
tenances of  the  Hourffi  the  most  exquisite  I  ever  saw  depicted  I 
noticed  several  artists  at  work,  copying  the  picture  upon  canvas, 
lliere  was  one  nearly  completed,  on  which  the  copyist  was  still  at 
work.  It  was  some  four  or  fiye  feet  long  and  three  high — for  which 
he  asked  tl20,  though  it  was  siud  it  m^ght  be  had  at  a  less  price. 
Among  the  paintings  in  the  halls,  I  particularly  noticed,  as  attractive^ 
one  of  Sampson's  death,  by  Caracci ;  another,  of  Andromeda,  by 
Guido ;  the  triumj^  of  David  over  Goliath,  and  the  shame  of  Adam 
and  Eve  in  Paradis^,  after  the  fall,  by  Domenichino, — and  a  portndt 
of  Oalvin,  by  Titian,  Among  the  busts,  I  noticed  those  of  Gcero, 
Seneca,  Hadrian  and  Scipio  Africanus — this  last  in  basalt,  and  said  to 
have  been  found  at  Lintemium. 

From  this  palace,  we  passed  to  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  Mag- 
giore.  It  is  one  of  the  principal  basilicas  in  Rome — the  third  in  rank, 
— situated  on  the  summit  of  the  Esquiline  Hill,  where  it  is  said  to 
have  been  founded  A.  D.  352,  and,  according  to  the  supersitious 
popish  legend  concerning  it,  in  accordance  with  a  vision  of  Pope 

Tiberius  and  John ,  representing  a  fall  of  snow  on  the 

space  to  be  occupied  by  the  building.  It  was  originally  called  S. 
Maria  ad  Nives,  but  takes  its  present  name  from  being  the  principal 
of  all  the  churches  in  Rome,  which  are  dedicated  to  the  Virgin.  It 
has  been  repaired,  improved  and  adorned  by  different  popes ;  and  its 
interior,  it  is  said,  presents  as  fine  an  appearance- as  any  of  this  class 
of  churches  in  existence.  It  presents  an  immense  nave,  separated 
from  an  aisle  on  either  side,  by  a  row  of  white  marble  columns  of  the 
Ionic  order,  supporting  a  continuous  entablature,  on  which  rest— 
except  where  broken  by  two  arches,  the  entrances  to  side  chapels,-* 
the  walls  of  the  upper  story  of  the  nave,  adorned  with  a  range  of 
pilasters  corresponding  to  the  pillars  below. 

The  roof  or  ceiling  of  the  nave  is  highly  ornamented  with  carved 
work  and  gilding,  said  to  be  of  the  first  gold  brought  to  Spun  from 
Peru — the  gift  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  Pope  Alexander  VI.  TTie 
vaulted  roofs  of  the  aisles  are  not  in  keeping  with  that  of  the  centre. 
The  sides  and  end  of  the  nave,  above  the  arch  of  the  tribune,  are 
adorned  with  very  ancient  mosaic  work,  representing  scenes  in  the 
lives  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacob,  Moses  and  Joshua,  and  thought,  bj 
many  authors,  to  be  as  old  as  the  fifth  century.  The  high  altar  is  a 
large  urn  of  porphyry,  over  which  rises  the  baldacchino,  supported  by 
four  columns  of  like  material,  in  the  Corinthian  order,  and  surmounted 
by  six  bronze  angels. 

In  one  of  the  chapels,  called  that  of  the  most  holy  sacrament,  the 


LTINa  WONBBBa  445 


poor  idolaters  of  Rome  affect  to  tell  you  that  the  cradle  of  the  Savior 
is  preserved — which  is  honored  aad  worshipped,  in  a  solemn  ceremony 
and  procession,  on  Christmas  eve.  The  ridmess  of  this  chapel  is  far 
exceeded  by  that  of  the  Dorghese,  on  the  opposite  side,  in  its  costly 
marbles  and  exquisite  statuary,  and  magnificent  architecture  and  deco- 
rations. 

The  altar  of  the  Virgin  has  four  fluted  columns  of  jasper,  and  is 
especially  ^'  celebrated  for  the  miraculous  painting  of  Uie  Madonnai 
traditionally  attributed  to  St  Luke,  and  pronounced  to  be  such  in  a 
papal  bull,  attached  to  one  of  its  walls,"  Which,  although  the  edict  of 
**•  the  'infallible  head  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Churcli,''  does  by  no  means 
form  an  adequate  voucher  for  its  authenticity,  or  prevent  me  from 
classing  it  among  the  "  lying  wonders,"  appropriate  to  him  "  whose 
coming  is  after  the  worliing  of  Satan,  and  with  all  deceivableness  of 
unrighteousness  in  them  that  perish." 

There  are  many  very  costly  tombs  in  different  chapels  of  this  basilica 
— among  them  those  of  Popes  Paul  V  (its  founder,)  Clement  VUI  and 
IX,  and  Nicholas  IV.  They  are  gorgeous  attempts  to  perpetuate  the 
memory  of  men,  whose  blasphemous  pretensions  to  be  the  Vicars  of 
Jesus  Christ  gave  them  their  chief  consequence. 

from  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  we  passed  to  that  of 
the  Scala  Santa,  or  Pilate's  Stair-case.  It  b  said  to  be  that  portion  of 
the  chapel  of  Leo  III  which  escaped  the  fire  that  destroyed  the  ancient 
papal  palace  on  the  Esquiline  Hill,  and  was  preserved  by  Sixtus  V, 
when  he  rebuilt  the  Lateran  palace.  The  portico  over  the  stair-case, 
fdso  preserved  from  the  flames,  was  likewise  his  work.  The  stair-case 
oonsists  of  twenty-eight  steps  of  marble,  which,  the  tradition  of  the 
phurch  says,  belonged  to  the  house  ^of  PUate,  and  down  which  the 
Savior  passed  when  he  left  the  judgment-seat.  The  "Scala  Santa"  is 
between  two  other  parallel  stairways,  by  which  the  penitents  descend, 
and  by  which  exit  and  entrance  are  had  by  persons  visiting  the  chapeL 
^A  priest  stands  in  the  vestibule,  near  the  foot  of  the  stair-case,  to 
receive  in  his  box  any  charitable  contributions  that  may  be  made. 
« These  priests  are  sturdy  beggars,  and  their  name  is  "  Legion."  I 
was  on  the  point  of  ascending  the  staircase,  as  the  principal  entrance 
to  the  chapel,  when  a  priest  in  attendance  dir^ted  me  to  one  of  the 
side  stairways,  from  whom  I  learned  that  this  was  the  holy  one. 
There  were  no  penitents  at  the  time  upon  it,  but  as  I  stood  afterwards 
at  the  top  of  the  stairway,  I  noticed  three  females  performing  their 
services,  and  watched  them  till  they  had  accomplished  the  ascenU 
T)iey  were  diligent  in  their  recitations  at  each  step,  but,  at  intervals, 
conversed  laughingly.    This  stairway  is  allowed  to  be  ascended  only 


446  NOTES  OF  yOREIGMT  TRAVEL. 

by  penitents,  and  that  on  their  knees.  fPhe  crowds  tliat  go  titrotf^ 
lihis  stupid  and  degrading  service  of  snpersition,  have  been  so  grea% 
that  Clement  XII  found  it  necessary  to  protect  the  marble  bj  planlDS 
of  wood,  which  have,  since  his  day,  been  three  times  renewed.  A 
tablet  is  suspended,  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  on  the  wall,  on  wUdi 
it  is  proclaimed,  that,  by  ascending  on  the  knees  and  kissing  the  steps, 
at  the  same  time  repeating  the  prayer  therein  written,  each  person 
j)erforming  this  service  would  relieve  five  souls  from  purgatory.  The 
prayer,  which  I  copied,  is  in  these  word»r-not  addressed  to  God  or 
Christ,  but  to  the  individual's  guardian  angel.  Possibly,  it  niay  be 
the  title  of  Jesus  Christ : 

Angele  Dei,  qui  custos  es  mei,  me  tibi  commissum  pietate  sapema 
hodie,  illumina,  custodi,  regi,  gubenia.     Amen. 

O  thou  angel  of  God,  who  art  my  guardian,  enlighten,  keep,  rale, 
govern  me  entrusted  to  the6  this  day  in  celestial  piety.*  Amen.  Tfce 
information  and  prayer  are  given  also  in  the  Italian  language. 

At  the  head  of  the  stair-case  is  a  small  Gothic  chapel,  called  the 
gahcta  sa7i€torum,  or  the  holy  of  holies,  once  the  private  chapel  of  the 
popes,  in  which  is  perceived  a  painting  of  the  Saviour,  affirmed  by- 
tradition  to  have  been  taken  of  Ilim,  and  to  be  an  exact  likeness  at  12 
years  of  age,  and  yet  the  portrait  is  five  feet  eight  inches  in  height ! ! 
There  is  a  small  window  through  which  penitents  may  look  into  this 
chapel,  as  they  kneel  at  the  head  of  the  stair-case,  after  having  per- 
formed their  ascent.  The  chapel  contains  many  relics,  and  is  accounted 
too  sacred  for  any  woman  to  enter  it !  Among  the  mosaic,  which 
adorn  the  tribune,  are  two  of  great  antiquity  ;  one  representing  the 
Saviour  giving  the  keys  to  Peter  with  one  hand,  and  a  standard  to 
Constantine  with  the  other ; — of  a  piece  with  the  anachroinsms  so  com- 
inon  among  those  painters  and  artists"  that  cater  to  the  taste  of  idola- 
Vous  Rome. 

From  the  Scala  Santa  we  passed  to  the  church  of  St.  John  de  Later- 
an,  which  is  a  little  ways  from  it.  It  is  one  of  the  celebrated  Basilicaa 
'of  Rome,  and  is  said  to  occupy  the  site  of  the  house  of  PlacetU9 
'La%teranus,  one  of  the  Roman  senate,  who,  according  to  Tacitus,  wAs' 
put  to  death  by  the  Emperor  Nero,  for  conspiracy.  It  afterwards  be- 
longed to  the  family  of  Marius  Amelius,  and  was  granted  by  Ae 
"Emperor  Constantine  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome  for  his  episcopal  palace. 

The  Basilica  here  founded  was  commenced  by  that  etnperor,  who  is 
said  to  have  assisted  with  his  own  hands,  in  digging  the  foundations. 
"Tbe  inscription  over  the  door,  styles  it  Omnium  urbis  et  okbis,  Ikj- 
*  CLKSiARtM  Materet  CAPUT.  **  The  mothcr  and  head  of  all  the  chiirefcia 
t>f  the  city  and  the  world.'*    It  is  in  this  chutch  tiie  pope  is  always 


CHAPEL  OF  POPE  CLKHmfT.  M 

crowned,  and  it  has  become  celebrated  also,  as  the  place  where  wcEre 
Md  the  five  great  general  assemblies,  common]  j  called  the  Lacterm 
eoancils.  The  restorations  «id  changes  made  in  this  BasUica,  during 
the  last  century,  have  leA^  but  little  of  its  original  character.  The 
Aoade  is  composed  of  travertin,  comprising  four  large  columns  and  six 
pilasters,  of  the  composite  order,  supporting  a  massive  entablature 
and  bahistrade,  on  which  are  placed  colossal  statues  of  the  Saviouir 
ttnd  some  ten  saints.  There  are  five  balconies  between  the  columns 
and  pilasters,  from  the  central  one  of  which  the  pope  pronounces  his 
tienediction  on  the  people 'on  the  day  of  the  ascension.  The  style  of 
t>mament  is  better  suited  to  a  theatre  than  a  church.  The  vestibule 
contains  a  statue  of  Constantine,  whom  Romanists  may  honor  as  the 
great  founder  and  former  of  their  fchurdi — palm  and  head  of  the 
church — ^and  the  date  of  whose  profession  of  Christianity  may  be  well 
^led  that  of  the  sin  of  tlie  Roman  Catholic  apostacy.  This  Basilica 
lias  five  entrances,  and  the  interior  five  halls,  divided  by  four  rows  of 
piers.  In  the  nitches  which  pierce  the  piers  of  the  main  one,  are 
dossal  statues  of  the  twelve  Apostles,  which  are  among  the  principal 
things  in  this  temple  that  occupied  my  attention. 

The  chapel  of  chief  attraction  and  importance  in  it,  is  that  of  Pope 
Oement  XII,  constructed  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  cross,  in  honor  of  his 
ancestor,  St.- Andrea  Corrini,  It  is  of  imposing  magnificence,  contain- 
feg  the  richest  marbles,  and  rngjit  costly  ornaments,  statues,  mosaics, 
'bas  reliefs  and  gems,  rivalled  only  by  that  of  the  Borghese,  in  the 
church  of  Santa  Marie  Maggiore.  This  chapel  is  properly  the  mau- 
soleum of  Clement  XII.  His  tomb  is  tlie  celebrated  porphyry  sarco- 
•phagiis,  taken  from  the  portico  of  the  Pantheon.  In  a  vault  beneath 
diis  chapel,  where  the  remains  of  this  rich  pope  rest,  is  the  celebrated 
find  beautiful  piece  of  statuary,  called  Pieta,  by  Bernini.  It  is  fer  su- 
perior to  any  thing  of  the  sort  that  I  have  yet  seen.  Although  strongly 
prejudiced  against  all  pictorial  and  statuary  representations  of  the 
(Saviour,  as  l)eing  violations  of  the  letter  and  spirit  of  the  second  com- 
mandment, yet  I  could  not  but  admire  the  exquisite  skill  and  art  (if 
the  workman.  It  represents  the  Virgin  Mary  seated,  with  the  head 
and  upper  part  of  the  body  of  the  Saviour  reposing  in  her  lap— a  life- 
less corpse,  &i  it  were — just  taken  down  froili  the  cross.  Her  &ce  is 
slightly  drooping,  as  looking  upon  that  of  the  Saviour  below.  The 
expression  of  both  countenances  is  of  the  most  tenderly  impressive 
and  affecting  character,  the  features  exceedingly  beautiful,  and  the  ana- 
tomical structure  of  the  forms  as  perfect  as  reality.  A  slight  fee 
obtained  admission  for  us  into  the  chapel,  and  the  crypt  below,  to 
which  we  passed  through  a  door  from  tl^e  former  down  a  stone  staur- 


44B  NOTRS  OF  FOREiai^  TBAYEL. 

case,  leading  to  the  latter.  The  chamber  ia  dark,  but  the  cusior  loei 
lighted  candles,  and  afforded  us  abundant  opportunitj  tQ  examine  the 
work,  directing  our  attention  occasionally  to  some  of  its  more  rem^ii:- 
able  traits  of  excellence. 

I  had  many  strange  thoughts  about  the  taste  displayed  by  such  a 
man  as  was  this  pope,  and  his  ideas  of  religion,<^^specially  as  indicated 
by  the  embellishments  of  this  mausoleum,  at  such  an  enormous  expense. 
Poor  pious  Shebna,  the  treasurer,  ^^  hewed  him  out  a  sepulchre  as  he 
that  heweth  him  out  a  sepulchre  on  high,  and  that  gaineth  an'  habita- 
tion for  himself  in  a  rock,"  but  he  was  "  tossed  like  a  ball  into  a  laige 
country,''  and  neyer  laid  in  it.  Popes,  kings,  and  bishops,  at  enormous 
.expense,  haye  done  the  like  thing,  and  their  remains  yet  sleep  where 
they  were  laid.  But  their  tombs  are  all  destined  to  desecration. 
How  has  been  the  history  of  all  the  proud  mausoleums  of  lofty  despots 
in  remote  antiquity  —  Nineveh,  Egypt,  Babylon,  Persia,  Greece,  hare 
been  desolated,  and  their  tombs  ransacked  and  defiled.  Rome,  too,  Is 
to  have  her  day,  for  "  the  Lord  of  hosts  hath  purposed  it,  to  stain  the 
pride  of  all  glory,  and  to  bring  into  contempt  all  the  honorable  of  the 
earth." 

This  church,  too,  has  its  relics,  or  stock  in  trade ;  and  apiong  them  are 
shown  the  mouth  of  the  well,  where  Christ  met  the  woman  of  SamariSi 
two  pillars  from  Pilate's  house,  a  column  which  tradition  relates  was 
split  when  the  vale  of  the  temple  was  rent,  a  porphyry  slab  on  whidi 
the  soldiers  cast  lots,  and  several  columns  six  feet  high,  said  to  be  the 
exact  height  of  the  Saviour  ! 

Near  this  temple  is  the  Baptistery,  which  was  built  by  Constanlane^ 
•—a  small  octagonal  structure  of  brick.  Eight  rich  porphyry  colamna 
sustain  a  cornice  that  runs  around  the  building.  The  baptismal  font  is 
a  vase  of  basalt,  in  which  tradition  reports  that  Constantine  reodved 
the  rite  of  baptism.  It  occupies  a  large  part  of  the  floor,  and  was  ev- 
idently designed  for  immersion.  It  is  used  only  on  the  Saturday  be- 
fore Easter,  when  Jews  or  infidels  are  to  be  baptized  into  the  Roman 
Oatholic  religion. 


LAM  0*  *HB  PtftAlffDS. 


LA^ID  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


Bt  WA&Bim  ISHAJL 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 
A  SpedaeUf — A  Sceini  cU  his  IknoUom^ — Tfu  Mohammvedon  BtStigiim. 

Agfdnj  as  we  fkMt  lacilj  along,  the  voice  of  song  and  the  squawk  of  tha 
irild  goose,  brelik  upon  tte  ear ; — ^but  look  yonder :  see  that  Moslem 
saiitt  p^orming  his  devotions  beneath  a  pahn  1a*ee,  heedless  alike  ef 
tiie  voice  of  song,  the  squawk  of  the  wild  goose,  and  the  gase  of  curiouf 
eyes.  The  hour  of  prayer  has  overtaken  him  there,  and  no  matter 
whether  alone  or  in  a  throng,  he  comes  to  a  full  pause,  takes  off  hi# 
ointer  garment,  and  spreads  it  down  before  him,  slips  off  his  shoes, 
and  standing  with  his  face  towards  Mecca,  says  aloud,  '*  God  is  great,*^ 
and  audibly  announces  his  determination  to  bow  down  before  him  a 
certain  number  of  times.  Then,  kneeling  upon  the  garment  (^diich  ia 
a  substitute  for  the  mat  used  in  the  mosque),  and  placing  his  hands 
upon  the  ground,  he  bends  his  body  forward,  touchiiig  the  earth  with 
his  forehead,  and  exclaims :  ^^  I  assert  the  absolute  glory  of  God,"  dso^ 
Raising  his  body,  and  sinking  back  upon  his  haunches,  he  repeatoc 
*'  God  is  great.''  Rising  to  his  feet,  he  turns  his  head  to  look  oveir 
fais  right  shoulder,  and  says :  ^*  Peace  be  on  you,  and  the  mercy  of  . 
God,"  and  then,  looking  over  his  lef^  shoulder,  he  repeats  the  same 
words.  These  words  are  said  to  invisible  angels,  who  are  supposed  to 
be  hovering  around  him.  He  now  stands  with  his  two  thumbs  upon 
hiis  ears,  and  his  hands  spread  out  like  eagle's  wings.  This  routine  is 
Repeated  over  and  over  again,  before  his  orison  is  ended. 

The  devoted  ones  are  in  the  habit  of  repeating  aloud  pious  ejacula» 
tions,  from  time  to  time,  through  the  day,  even  when  committing  the 
tnost  flagrant  immoralities.    My  captain  and  men  always  call  upoa^ 
God  for  help,  when,  tiirough  laziness,  they  run  the  boat  aground. 

They  sometimes  economise  theh*  prayers,  by  going  through  the 
preface  while  doing  some  other  little  job  at  the  same  time,  pausing  a 
moment  to  turn  the  face  toward  Mecca,  and  declare  aloud  their  inten- 
tion to  bow  down  before  God  a  certain  number  of  times.  As  a  pious 
Moslem  was  conducting  me  one  morning  to  a  locality  I  was  in  search 
of^  the  time  of  prayer  overtook  him,  and  he  stopped  several  times, 

VOL.  I,  NO.  X. — ^29. 


•  • 


450  LAJfD  OP  THS  FYUAMUDB. 

tamed  his  fiioe  toward  Mecca,  and  uttered  his  intentian  aloud,  at  the 
same  time  hastening  his  steps  in  the  interyals. 

Great  deference  is  paid  to  those  who  acquire  a  reputation  for  peca- 
liar  stoctity..  There  is  scarcely  a  village  that  does  not  produ'oe  its 
holy  man  from  time  to  time,  who  supplants  his  predecessor,  b  idolized 
whHe  he  lives,  and  draws  pilgijmages  to  his  tomb  after  his  death,  untQ 
he  in  his  turn  is  supplanted  by  some  new  aspirant.  These  saints,  like 
the  christian  anchorites  of  old,  subject  themselves  to  extreme  destitUr 
lion,  spending  their  days  in  a  sort  of  squalid  beatitude. 

The  Mohammedan  religion  enters,  as  a  prime  element,  into  the  en- 
tire structure  of  the  government,  and  of  society.  It  is  so  minute  in  its 
prescriptions  of  duty  to  the  individual,  as  to  leave  no  room  for  those 
voluntary  and  discretionary  acts,  whidi  alone  reveal  the  inner  maii| 
and  constitute  an  index  to  the  character,  and  indeed  character  itralC 
The  old  Jewish  ceremonial  was  ransacked,  and  its  burdensome  obser- 
va&ces,  even  its  law  of  meats  and  drinks,  were  made  the  law  of  the 
Koran,  and  the  law  of  the  Koran  is  the  dvil  law  of  the  land. 

But  this  heartless  system,  possessing  in  itself  the  elements  of  its 
own  dissolution,  has  long  since  lost  the  respect  of  the  great  mass  of  its 
professed  votaries,  and  they  regard  it  with  indifference,  if  not  abeolnte 
disgust,  denying  it  even  the  poor  tribute  of  an  exterior  homage.  The 
aged  saint,  who,  in  his  younger  days,  had  to  hustle  lus  way  through  a 
crowd  of  fellow-worshippers,  as  he  entered  the  mosque,  now  pours 
forth  his  lamentations  over  the  desolations  of  the  place,  as  he  enters 
with  tottering  step,  solitary  and  alone,  and  contrasts  the  few  in  attend* 
ance  with  the  crowd  he  used  to  see  there  in  days  gone  by.  The  truth 
is,  Mohammedanism  has  passed  its  seasons  of  youth  and  manhood,  and 
is  now  fiist  sinking  into  the  imbecility  and  decrepitude  of  age. 

But  the  few  devoted  ones  are  always  prompt  in  the  routine  of  pre- 
scribed duty.  Like  the  Pharisees  of  old,  they  wash  after  eating,  as 
well  as  before.  When  gathered  around  the  table,  the  master  says : 
^  Grod  is  great,'*  which  is  repeated  by  the  whole  circle.  On  leaving 
the  table,  each  one  says :  "  Praised  be  Grod  !" 

The  law  of  the  Koran,  prohibiting  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  is 
generally  set  at  naught  by  that  portion  of  the  irreligious  who  have  the 
means  to  obtain  it.  Drunkenness,  however,  is  accounted  a  crime,  and 
is  punished  with  stripes,  according  to  the  law  of  the  Koran.  Hence, 
very  seldom  is  a  drunkard  to  be  seen  in  the  streets ;  but  I  am  told 
there  are  plenty  of  them,  of  the  higher  class,  who  oftien  lie  drunk  in 
their  houses. 

Stern  fotalism  is  a  rigid  dogma  of  the  Moslem  creed,  as  inculcated 
in  the  Koran.    Formed  to  this  doctrine,  the  true  Moslem  regards,  with 


DOCTRIKES  OF  THE  KORAN.  461 


equal  indifference,  the  good  and  evil  which  be&lls  him,  simplj  ejacula- 
tiiig,  in  the  one  caae  as  in  the  other,  "  God  is  great !''  I  am  told  he  is 
in  the  habit  of  having  his  graye-dothes  made  to  be  kept  by  him,  al- 
ways taking  them  along  when  he  undertakes  a  perilous  journey  across 
the  desert,  and  if  left  behind  to  die,  wr^ping  himself  in  them,  he  lays 
himself  composedly  down  in  a  slight  grave  he  has  scooped  out  in  the 
sand,  and  covering  his  body  up  to  the  head,  calmly  resigns  the  spirit  to 
him  who  gave  it,  and  his  body  to  the  hyena. 

This  doctrine  of  &talism  weaves  the  web  of  destiny  for  ^e  poor 
viotims  of  despotism,  preparing  them  to  lie  passively  down,  under  the 
moat  galling  oppressions.  The  apathy  of  this  people  under  their  op- 
(Mressions,  is  amaring ;  but  the  key  to  the  mystery  is  found  in  this  doc- 
trine :  they  seem  to  be  suffering  what  they  deem  to  be  an  irreversible 
doom.  The  mind  must  be  enslaved  by  superstition  of  some  kind,  be- 
fbre  it  can  be  brought  under  the  iron  rule  of  despotism.  Liook  tl^a 
world  over ;  take  the  circuit  of  the  globe,  and  point  me  to  the  solitary 
instance  where'despotism,  and  a  superstitious  fiuth,  do  not  join  hands 
and  mutually  support  each  other.  Superstitious  religionists  and  des- 
pots, of  all  ages,  have  understood  this  game,  and  played  it  welL 
Egypt^s  great  Pacha,  Mohammed  Ali,  poured  derision  on  the  name  of 
Mobunmed,  behind  the  scenes,  while,  at  the  same  time,  from  State 
policy,  he  feigned  great  r^ard  for  the  religion  of  the  country,  and 
made  a  great  show  of  zeal  in  its  support. 

Strange  to  say,  they  are  full  believers  in  a  future  state  of  reward 
and  punishment,  &talists  though  they  be.  They  think,  however,  that 
both  the  righteous  and  the  wicked  are  miserable  after  death,  until  they 
find  relief  in  the  repose  of  the  tomb.  Hence  the  remains  of  deceased 
persons  are  hustled,  uncofHned,  and  with  all  practicable  dispatch,  into 
their  final  resting  place.  The  funeral  processions  of  the  pious  are  ac- 
companied with  boisterous  demonstrations  of  joy  by  surviving  friends, 
in  view  of  their  supposed  transition  to  heaven,  while  the  obsequies  of 
the  wicked  are  accompanied  with  wailings  and  exhibitions  of  anguish, 
by  hired  mourners,  in  view  of  the  miseries  the  deceased  are  suffering, 
which  it  is  frightful  to  witness.  Laid  in  their  graves,  they  are  ad- 
dressed and  told  that  angels  will  conie,  the  succeeding  night,  and  take 
away  their  spirits.  In  the  meantime,  they  must  submit  to  their  exami- 
nation by  two  enormous  angels,  who  are  to  be  sent  to  question  them 
about  God  and  Mohammed.  If  their  answers  are  satisfactory,  they 
are  taken  at  once  to  a  place  of  happiness — if  not,  they  are  dragged 
away  to  be  punished.  While  this  underground  scene  is  going  on, 
their  surviving  friends  are  engaged  in  prayer,  that  they  may  pass  the 
fearful  ordeal  in  triumph,  and  experience  the  mercy  of  God.     At  the 


452  LAND  OF  THE  PYRAMIDa 

i^»iii  II .Ill    .III  .1.  ■    I  I II I      '    I     ■  »»i^^^—i-»— — »i^— ^— ^i»^^p^p^» 

same  time,  they  delight  ftfterwards  to  linger  about  the  ^Te,  aa 
though  thej  believed  it  not  to  be  wholly  deserted.  n 

They  believe,  also,  in  a  general  judgment,  the  desoriptioQ  of  ydAA 
in  the  Koran,  ia  borrowed  from  the  New  Testament,  but  is  so  &r  be- 
neath the  original  as  fidrly  to  make  a  burlesque  of  it. 

Their  ideas  of  a  future  state  are  confused  and  crude  enough.  Indi» 
regions  of  perdition,  wicked  Mussulmen  enjoy  spedal  privileges  ovbt 
infidels  and  idolaters,  the  two  latter  being  doomed  to  everlasting  pain, 
while  the  former  work  out  tiieir  release.  Different  sects,  howeveri 
entertain  entirely  different  views,  not  only  of  the  future  state,  but  of 
the  whole  system  of  Mohammedan  Theology;  but  the  above  is  regarded 
as  the  orthodox  belief. 

The  brood  of  petty  superstitions  whidi  owe  tiieir  patemitrf  to  this 
monster  one^  are  almost  innumerable,  and  they  are  a  legitimate  and 
natural  bom  progeny.  Among  them  is  a  belief  in  genii,  asort  of  inviai« 
ble  being,  made  of  fire,  ocoupying  a  rank  between  angels  and  men,  in- 
habiting rivers,  wells,  old  houses,  &a, — some  good,  and  doing  good  toi 
men,  and  others  bad,  and  perpetrating  all  sorts  of  mischief — boli^ 
proper  objects  of  address,  supplication,  6cc  Then,  there  is  their  belief 
in  magic,  in  dreams,  in  lots,  in  the  efRcacy  of  charms,  and  holy  water, 
to  cure  diseases,  dz;c. 

Por  idiots  and  lunatics  they  cherish  the  greatest  veneration,  befiev* 
ing  that  their  souls  have  been  taken  to  heaven,  while  their  bodies  have 
been  left  behind.  The  highest  dignitary  is  not  more  venerated  t&aa 
the  natural  fool. 


CHAPTER  XLVa 
J%e  Women  of  Ef^L 

Once  more  we  are  swinging  off  into  the  current,  to  glide  silently  on 
our  way.  But  what  is  that  chattering  we  hear  1  Look,  see  that  covey 
of  Arab  girls,  in  tattered,  dirty  garments,  wading  into  the  Nile  to  fill 
their  huge  pitchers,  aiding  eadi  other  in  elevating  .them  to  their  cush- 
ioned heads,  and  balancing  them  without  touching  a  finger  to  them,  as 
they  ascend  the  steep  and  slippery  bank,  singing,  talking  and  laughing 
as  they  go,  reminding  one  of  the  damsels  of  Old  Testament  times.  No 
devices  are  used  to  conceal  their  tawny  charms. 

Very  different  are  the  customs  which  obtain  in  large  towns.  You 
never  see  a  woman's  face  in  Cairo  or  Alexandria — ^nothing  but  the 
eyes  and  forehead,  all  else  being  concealed  by  a  "  face  vail,***  which  is 
bound  around  the  head,  over  the  nose,  and  under  the  eyes,  and  hangs 


LADIES  m  THE  STBBElr.  55S 

» 

down  over  the  chest,  oonoealing  the  ftoe,  while  the  eyes  (which  gener- 

atty  do  idl  tho  zoisotMr),  are  left  freeto  waoderi '' like therfooPs;"  and 

fiifij  generally  make  good  use  of  them  when  inthe  street,  darting  here 

and  ihere  their  seaithing  glanoes.    Bnt  while  this  sorry  privilege  ia 

taieled  out  to  them,  it  is  ccmiddiared  the  height  of  ixnpoliteaesa  for  those 

tif'the  otihar  sex  to  gaa6  at  ihem  in  retiim«    When  a  lady  islaiQwn  to 

be  approaching,  it  is  considered  but  a  proper  mark  of  d^rmoe  in  the 

lattiBP,  to  turn  theb  &oes  tihe  other  wa^.  ItwouldbeAniuipairdonable 
fitSsQpe  for  a  mflu  to  9^er  to  speak  to  a  lady  in  the  street*    Even  her 

^^WA  husband  cannot  do  ity  for  others,  have  no  means  of  knowipg  th«t 

,^y  are  husband  and  wife,  and  of  course  they  would  both  be  expose^ 

.to'^vil  imputations. 

*    ^ua  mi]^ed  and  restrioted,.the  ladies  in  large  towns  appear  in  the 
street  as  much  as  they  please,  but  they  do  not  often  avail  themselvep 
of  the  privilege.    They  often  meet,  however,  at  each  other's  dwellings, 
and  at  the  public  baths,  for  social  intercourse  and  match-making. 
£Totfaing  can  exceed  in  ludicrousness  the  appearance  of  an  Egyptian 

Ja4y^  ridu%  upon  an  ass,  a  spectacle,  however,  seen  every  day  in  the 

'Streets.  Th^  are  enveloped  in  a  black  jrilken  canopy^  which,  resting 
upon  their  heads,  oomes  down  and  is  tucked  under  them,  and  is  puiSed 

■out.  like  a  baloon,  as  large  as  two  or  three  hogsheads,  and  a  pair  of 
tolaok  eyes,  ahooting  through  port-holes  in  front  This  huge  moving 
gfiectacle  is  rendered  the  more^udicrous  by  contrast  with  the  dimina- 
tiveness  of  the  animal  which  supports  it ;  and  indeed,  the  first  thought 

'  would  naturally  be,  that  it  was  iJl  one  animal — some  strange,  nonde- 
script variety,"--some  apocalyptic  beast,  whose  habits  and  history  it 
woidd  be  worth  while  to  inquire  into. 

Sometimes  the  ladies  are  shut  up  in  a  litter,  which  rests  upon  the 
backs  of  donkeys,  and  they  are  thus  borne  upon  quadrupeds  through 
thd  street,  invisible  to  all  mortal  eyes,  while  they  are  taking  sly  glan- 
ces at  everything  around  them. 

It  is  generally  taken  for  granted,  I  believe,  with  us,  that  the  femaleis 
of  Mohammedan  countries  are  thus  concealed  from  the  jealousy  and 
tyranny  of  their  husbands.    But  this  is  not  so— it  is  a  part  of  their  re- 

.ligion,  it  bcdng  forbidden  in  the  Koran  that  a  woman  should  appear  in 
public,  or  in  private,  unvailed,  in  the  presence  of  any  except  her  own 

'  household — a  law  in  entire  harmony  with  a  system,  whose  lack  of  in^ 
herent  moral  power  is  generally  supplied  by  physical  force. 

This  law  of  the  Koran,  however,  seems  to  sit  lightly  upon  the  fe- 
males up  the  Nile,  who  universally  appear  with  uncovered  fiipea,  And 

'islthough  they  «re  a  little  shy,  especially  if  you  come  upon  them  by 
'Surprise,  they  can  readily  be  approached,  and  I  have  even  had.  little 


464  LAND  OF  THB  PTRAlOBa 

^■■■- Ill  >  ■        ■■■■»■  ■»       ■■  ■  !■■  ■■  ■  — »■—  I. 

I  P ■■     I  «  I  ■mill  II       I  .  ■  .    .■■  .1  ..        ».  I        .  I  i»il  ■ .■ 

chftts  wiih  them,  negotiating  with  them  for  GhickeoS)  and  odier  ^ 
tfonsL"  Hiej  are  well  formed,  have  r^^ukr  festona,  with  dark  ejraiii 
and  tawny  complexions ;  are  fiill  of  talk ;  and  their  ringlets  and  ear- 
drops borrow  lustre  from  a  ragged  and  dir^  ooatume,  as  thediamoDd 
does  brilliancy  shining  from  a  bed  of  rabbirit  TUa  ia  aiid  of  ihm 
peasant  girls. 

It  is  difficult  to  saj  what  rank  in  the  scale  of  being  woman  hdda  ia 
Mohammedan  esteem.  Whether  her  seclusion  denotes  a  alight  eall- 
mate  of  her  solid  worth,  or  the  dioiee  safe-keejung  of  a  priedeas  geai| 
the  Koran  saith  not  Certain  it  is,  that  a  very  low  estimate  ia  pvi 
np<m  her  intelligence  and  truthfulness,  it  bdng  a  requidtion  of  Moham- 
medan law,  that  the  witnesses  necessary  to  substantiate  a  case,  mnai 
consist  of  two  men,  or  one  man  and  two  women. 

Women  are  not  allowed  to  enter  the  public  mosques,  none  bat  tlie 
male  sex  ever  appearing  within  the  walls  of  a  house  of  worship. 

As  I  said,  it  is  not  easy  to  reconcile  these  restrictions  wi^  a  verj 
high  estimate  of  the  wortii  of  woman,  and  yet  there  are  some  tidnga 
which  would  seem  to  indicate  an  almost  superstitious  veneration  for 
the  sex  in  Mohammedan  countries.  Mixed  up  with  their  noticoa 
about  females,  there  seems  to  be  an  idea  that  there  is  some  sort  of 
mysterious  sacredness  about  them,  which  is  to  be  guarded  frt)m  profit 
nation,  even  within  the  precincts  of  tlft  tomb.  Not  only  are  femalsa 
concealed  from  the  vulgar  gaze  while  living,  but  are  kept  equally  se- 
cluded in  death,  the  females  of  a  family  not  being  permitted  to  rest^  in 
death,  in  the  same  apartment  with  males,  even  of  tiie  same  fiunily, 
and  there  are  some  female  tombs,  as  those  of  the  prophet's  wives, 
which  no  mortal  is  allowed  to  enter. 

The  Koran  allows  four  wives  to  each  man,  but  this  licentious  code 
is  found  to  operate  so  badly  upon  domestic  peace  and  morals,  that  it  is 
generally  discarded,  most  men  from  a  regard  to  their  own  comfort^ 
confining  themselves  to  one  wife.  Thus  is  this  leading  feature  in  the 
Mohammedan  creed  effectually  rebuked  in  the  very  hot-bed  of  the  de- 
lusion. 

Marriage,  of  course,  cannot  be  a  very  momentous  affiiir,  under  a 
system  which  only  requires  a  man  to  say  to  his  wife :  **  I  divorce 
thee,'^  and  she  is  divorced ;  or  a  woman  to  set  her  slipper  against  the 
door,  and  leave.  The  parties  never  see  each  other  until  the  next  day 
after  the  marriage  ceremony  is  performed.  The  whole  matter  is  be- 
gun, rsrr'dd  on,  and  concluded  between  the  parents  of  the  lady  and 
those  of  the  young  man,  the  two  mothers  originating  and  perfecting  all 
the  negotiations,  which  partake  somewhat  of  the  character  of  a  peoa- 
niary  speculation.    The  marriage  ceramony  consists  simply  in  the 


ICABBIAOB,— DIBIfiGILrrr  OF  THS  FEMALE  BEX  4K 

ladj's  j&ther  saying  to  the  bridegroom,  that  he  gives  him  his  daughter 
IB  xnarriage,  and  the  bridegroom's  response,  in  &e  presence  of  "wit- 
nesses,  that  he  accepts  her,  the  whole  thing  passing  off  with  feastings, 
processions,  6ce. ;  after  all  which,  the  day  after  the  marriage,  the  lady's 
&ee  is  imvailed  in  the  presence  of  her  husband,  for  the  first  time,  when 
persons  present  set  up  a  loud  and  boisterous  cry  of  joy,  whidi  is  res* 
ponded  to  by  ail  within  hearing  outside,  this  response  waking  up 
another  still  more  distant,  and  so  on,  until  sometimes  distant  parts  of 
the  town  send  up  their  sympathising  shouts.  This  demonstration  is 
said  to  be  at  the  instance  of  the  husband,  as  an  expression  of  his  sads- 
fiMStion  with  the  bride.  Whether  he  is  really  satisfied,  or  disappointed, 
no  one  knows  but  himself^  unless,  as  is  said  sometimes  to  be  the  ease, 
he  iff  unable  wholly  to  conceal  his  chagrin. 

The  education  of  females  in  Egypt  is  very  limited,  being  entirely 
rudimental.  Of  the  numerous  schools  I  looked  into,  I  did  not  see  a 
female  pupil  in  a  single  one,  and  I  could  not  learn  that  they  had  any 
schools  for  girls.  Females  do  not  seem  to  be  valued  as'  intellectual 
beings,  and  of  course  they  have  no  motive  to  aspire  to  intellectual  im- 
provement. Indeed,  female  children  here  do  not  appear  to  have  that 
aptitude  which  characterizes  the  sex  in  christian  countries.  In  the  cot- 
ton factories  in  Egypt,  boys  are  extensively  employed,  and  an  effort 
has  been  made  to  employ  little  girls  also ;  but  while  the  former  are 
found  to  be  remarkably  expert  in  the  business,  all  attempts  to  train 
the  latter,  so  as  to  make  their  labor  available  as  in  other  countries,  have 
been  given  up  as  useless.  This  would  seem  to  indicate  a  constitutional 
imbecility,  entailed  from  generation  to  generation ;  but,  if  this  be  so, 
why  do  not  the  boys,  as  well  as  the  girls,  inherit  it?  • 


CHAPTER  XLVIIL 

E^fledions  vpon  the  site  of  ancient  Memphis, — Contrast  between  (he  present  and  a»- 
etent  possessors  of  the  country. 

Again  we  are  in  the  region  of  the  pyramids,  cluster  after  duster 
rising  upon  the  vision,  as  we  are  borne  along,  as  they  have  done  fi>r 
thousands  of  years,  to  be  gazed  at  by  the  generations  of  men,  as  they 
have  passed,  one  after  another,  onward  upon  the  stream  of  time  to  their 
final  destiny. 

«  Vbej  do  IbImtU  a  Mitttlkalkmal  t«aip«niiMiit,  or  fomelklnff  alM,  wUeh  dii|MMt  fhMD  qoMtly 
to  jltld  «p  Uieir  panoaAl  Ood-glToa  ri^^ta,  witbovl  the  Xeeblost  ahow  of  wlt»>nco,  wd  to  'llo 
pMiiroly  down  nndor  tho  moot  gallinf  opprcftlon. 


UJSm  OF  TVm  PYRAMIDS; 


And  here,  too,  right  in  their  midat,  an^  near  those  of  Aboufihiry  ]^«s 
Jh^  ^ite  of  ancient  Memphis,  the  rival  of  Thebes.    Nothing  is  to  be 

iwen  at  this  day  but  fragpientary  remains  of  masaive  columns^  oolosaal 
.B^tues,  &C.,  8pr,ead  ov.er  a  considerable  extent  of  tejrritorj,  and  the 
fPiJ^wcwt  ledges,  i^lular  with  tombs.  It  is  almost  certain  thajb  ifa 
^ib^nd^ons  are  buried  deep  beneath  the  mud  of  the  Nile,  the  cat9f- 
«4irophe  of  its  Ml  havii^  been  thus  hftptened,  ^nd  the  precis.  qpQt.wJ^e 
f^t  stood  obliterated  forever. 

Tbi&  Yrap  the  Noph  of  the  Scriptures ;  here  Josqph  jb,  with^good 
Reason,  supposed  to  have  exercised  his  po^er  as  the  prime  nuni«t^  of 
fPt^^h»>nd  b^e,  that  he  called  ior  his  gt^ot,  and  h^t^ted  do.vn  to 
.meet, his  brelthr.^  in  the  land  of  Goshen. 

What  mutations  of  time,  whaA  multiform  phases  of  destinj^.hftiife 
.,been  witnessied  by  these  pyrazpids,  since  they  first  looked  down^j^pon 
„t|ie  plain  of  ^epiphis,  covered  with  the  proud  mpnuzpen^  of  a  great 
[^d,  wealthy  city,  and  crowded  with  a'T)U8y  population !. 

I  '  '^^t^  ^"^^  then  in  the  zenith  of  its  glory,  towering  in  its  pride pYi^ 
.^  jtbe  nalions  of  the  earth*  Not  only  the  children  of  Israel,  but  jdl 
^l^^ions  09ffiB  hither  to  buy  com,  wd  hei^oe  it  is  called^  in  the  Soriptui^ 
.^'^tiildiCGinfidenoe  of  the  ends  of  the  earthy  and  of  those  that  dwdl  A^kr 
l4:^ff  j^pon  the.  s^''  And  the  nations  are  said  to  "jsit  under  its  al^4pw,'' 
r.«nd  to  look  up  to  the  Egyptians  "as  though  they  were. gpda  and 
,,not  men." 

rLoilg.  anterior  to  Greek  and  Roman,  nay,  even  to  Persian  and  ^a}>^ 

.bylonian.greatnesa,  Egypt  was  thus  distinguished  among. the  natiopa 

fSi  the  earth,  her  monumental  records  dieting  far  back  to^irard  the  Ja- 

fkncy  of  the  race.     She  was  still  in  the  pride  of  her  power,  when  the 

decree  of  her  fiJl  was  pronounced  by  the  seers  of  Israel,  and  she  was 

written  down  in  the  future  as  "  the  barest  of  kingdoms."    That  was 

to  be  a  mighty  change,  from  so  high  a  state  of  exaltation  to  so  low  a 

depth  of  degradation,  and  ftr  beyond  the  ken  of  human  forecast    But 

she  was  borne  along,  upon  the  tide  of  events,  unerringly,  to  her  destiny. 

Overrun  and  conquered  successively  by  the  Babylonians,  tiie  Persians, 

the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  the  Saracens,  the  Mamelukes,  and  the  Turks, 

i«lie  has  not  had  a  single  native  ruler  for  four  and  twenty  centuries.    In 

■(the  meantime,  the  population  has  been  almost  entirely  changed,  new 

/Wfiarms  coming  in  at  every  ccmquest,  but  all  alike  going  down — do^^rn 

.  ^-^own-'-until  the  lowest  level  has  been  reached,  and  her  pec^e,  pnpe 

looked  up  to,  "  as  though  they  were  gods,"  have  become  the  soom.ai|id 

derision  of  the  nations.  Only  a  hundred  and  sixty  thonaand  of  the  present 

xifvpvhtkm  of  Egypt  daim  daaoent  ftoBi  iba  ^origiaal  inhabitanta  ^i  the 

country,  and  even  these  have  become  so  adulterate  by  the  iafoaicn  of 


t'l 


.  ANCIENT  AJ^D  WlflSRN  BGTPT,— CONTRAflT.  ^4Jt 

foreign  blood,  and  so  degenerate  bj  oppression,  as  to  bear  but  a  faint 
resemblance  to  the  parent  stock — ^a  miserable  remnant  of  a  once  pow- 
erful race.    Nor  are  their  ^f^acen  oppr^ftK>r8,  who  constitute  the  bulk 
of  the  population,  at  all  their  superiors.    The  famous  Alexandrian  li- 
•l^rarj  was  a  noble  monument  to  the  genius  md  learning  eftSne  andent 
Egyptians,  and  its  destruction  ia  equally  monumental  of  the  stupidity 
i^d.l^/irbarispii  of  the  Soraccin^,  who,  as  we  haye  elsewhere  s^ld,  were 
,;^oiQed,to  $iad  in  it,  not  t}ie  rich.treasure?  of  .ancient  learning,  but  fia^l 
^^fl^cient.tOjheat'the  numerous  baths  pf  Alexandria, six  months,  mpye 
j|jp,|iaJLf  of  it  ^lavii^g  b€^  before  destroyed     '^ith  t^e  (sapoijB  jsp^t  • 
(^!V f^^VP9f^  ^  tjir^wdow^  the  pyramids, and  would  Imye  gone  (^ 
^  Ij^y^jil^  o^e  nUe  Aftor  .ftj^^ot^er,  until  .§U  ^e  ^^pumeijtal  wondeps^pf 
^^^ptJbafi.difappe^^e^  ]:]^ore.tl»€W,^d  not  their ^orance^^^  ^ 

^^ty  .^J^^quali^ed  tl^Qm  even  to.tjhrQw  down  w;hat  the  ancient  flgjyptia^ 
J^  thp  JqK>wledg^  o{f^]^e  .meqluEOiical  powers,  and.  the  al)ility,  to  bi^jd 
^Vfg,.    To  pay  that  the  l^ttea-.wef.e  inen,  ^d  the  ^former  childx^^,  is,,^ 
c^^bizt  Uttle,    l^iere  jus  ^.fxi^eness  in  ^e3e  groveling  cre^^ur^s  ;vflii<jfa 
]jfi,.^flfff^f3^.    IIow,%h  ^e.  fnciwt  .iJE^gyptians  were  exa^t^  aWye.  ,^e 
^){jec(t  ;if^,  who  are,QpVi^  fq^a^^pajaon  of  t^e  country,  in  .all  the  lurts.pf 
j^yili^  Iifi3>/i8  Ajrij^iicfgly  Jehowp  ^n  a  p^aij^j©  of  Herodotus  .(;«rJho,yi8i^ 
fl^gjgpt  pvpr  luuiidr^d  f»^d  fit^y  yciars  ^efpre  the  Christian  era),  in  ,W^fh 
.^]^ j^pea^Ls,  of  ipi^dical  science  as  ^vii^  lattained  to  so  ripe  a  state,  thf^t 
^i^erent  dasaeapf  dU^a^ea  were  a^sigped  to  different  practitioners: 
.^',a<me,".he.9£^ys,  ^^  ^tending  to  disorders  of  the  head,  others  to  thp^e 
V  of  iiie|,ey^;  9ome  take  jcaire  of  the  teeth,  others  are  conversant  wi|Ji 
^yfiH  diaeftftM  of  the  intestines,  lyhile  many  att^d  to  maladies  lessccp- 
spicuous."     Of  the  renowned  Babylonians,  the  first  conquerors  ,pf 
.  Egypt,  whither  he  also  journeyed,  he  says :  "  They  have  no  professors 
of  medicine,  but  carry  their  sick  into  some  public  square,  where  pass- 
engers int;errogate  the  sufferer,  that,  if  they  had  been  afflicted  with  the 
same  disease,  or  seen  its  operation  in  another,  they  may  communicate 
all  they  know  of  its  character,  and  the  remedies  for  it,  and  no  one  may 
pass  such  afHicted  person  in  silence." 

The  historian  could  not  have  presented  the  ancient  Egyptians  in  a 

position  of  higher  superiority  to  all  ancient  nations  in  the  arts  of  life, 

,or  exhibited  in  more  humiliating  contrast  their  descendants,  and  those 

occupying  their  places,  who,  in  entire  ignorance  of  all  medical  science 

aud..medi(^l  skill,  betake  themselves  to  sorcery,  charms  and  enchant- 

mepts,  in  the  stupid  belief  that  these  things  will  avail  them.    , 

\  ,  And  to  all  these  changes  in  the  national  character,  until  this  depth  of 

^  aib^ement  has  been  reached,  these  venerable  piles  have  been  witnesses, 

and  they  will  yet  witness,  greater  changes  than  these. ' 


as  LAND  OF  THB  PTBAKID& 


CHAPTER  TTiTX. 
2ke  Dragoman,  his  ckarad&r^  ootliMiM,  and  Unctia^ — Thu  Omrmaff, — Tib  SoHf^ 

• 

Mj  protracted  vojage  is  ended,  and  I  am  again  liutoriating  beoealli 
fhe  aocacia  trees,  upon  the  great  square  of  Cairo,  often  with  a  troop  in 
mj  train  which  would  rival  in  splendor  Uiat  of  an  eastern  king.  I  am 
to  cross  the  long  desert ;  the  dragomans  are  out  in  their  best^  as  can* 
didates  for  my  sovereign  choice,  as  they  take  it  for  granted  that  I  am 
to  make  my  election  among  them  of  a  generalisimo  of  the  caravan  I 
am  to  fit  out.  Of  course  each  one  endeavors  to  excel  in  obsequious 
attention,  omitting  no  opportunity,  not  only  to  call  me  a  getUUman^ 
but  an  American  gentleman^  and  to  tell  me  how  glad  he  is  that  I  am 
not  a  surly  Englishman ;  how  many  American  gentlemen  he  has  taken 
across  the  desert,  pulling  out  a  bundle  of  certificates  at  the  same  time, 
which  attest  his  fidelity  in  the  service.  They  will  offer  you  a  thousand 
kindnesses,  and  assure  you  that  it  is  all  disinterested,  and  that  they 
will  continue  thus  to  befriend  you,  whether  you  employ  them  or  not 
In  the  next  breath,  as  though  conscious  of  their  treachery,  they  will 
remind  you  that,  this  being  their  business,  they  are  bound  by  every 
consideration  of  self-interest  to  be  fiiithful  to  their  trust,  as  otherwise 
ihey  would  be  ruined  forever — ^which  is  as  much  as  to  say :  *^  I  know 
myself  to  be  a  scoundrel,  and  you  suspect  it;  but  what  of  all  thatt 
Do  you  not  see  that  circumstances  compel  me  to  be  faitiiful  and 
honest  1" 

In  his  dress  and  personal  appearance,  the  dragoman  is  dasKy^  beyond 
anything  our  dandies  ever  aspired  to.  In  describing  him  I  will  b^n 
at  the  crown  of  his  head,  and  end  at  the  sole.s  of  his  feet.    ' 

In  the  first  place,  his  turbaned  head  has  been  shaven,  as  are  those  of 
all  Mohammedans,  save  that  a  lock  is  spared  upon  the  apex,  dose 
around  it  is  drawn  a  skull-cap,  with  a  tight  fit,  reaching  to  the  top  of 
the  temples,  and  over  this  is  constructed  the  turban,  consisting  of  a 
red  conical  cap,  reaching  down  to  the  ears,  and  coming  to  a  point  at 
the  top,  forming  a  regular  pyramid,  around  which  a  cashmere  shawl, 
sometimes  of  the  gaudiest  colors,  and  slightly  twisted,  i^  vm^ped 
round  and  round,  and  -the  ends  secured  by  tucking  in.  Over  all  this^ 
a  mammoth  tassel,  consisting,  sometimes,  of  half  a  pound  of  glossy 
black  or 'blue  silk,  is  suspended  from  the  apex  of  the  cap,  which  it 
draws  downward,  and  hangs  graoefiilly  back  upon  the  shoulders.  TTiat 
makes  the  turban  complete. 


DEB88  09  THE  DRAGOICAK.  459 

— 1^»«i^— ■»«  I        •mmm^mmmmmm—^m^t         p      i       ii       i  i         i  ■    ■  ■  ■ ■  p  i  i         — ^»-^  i       i — ^— » 

Their  trowsera  are,  in  form,  the  regular  Turkish,  and  eonsist  simply 
of  a  given  number  of  yards  of  fine  cashmere,  or  fine  vhite  linen,  scnne- 
times,  I  am  told,  of  as  many  as  thirt  j-siz  yards  of  the  latter,  wrought 
into  the  garment  entire,  not  a  rent  having  been  made  in  it,  and  after 
tills  &shion :  one  side  of  the  piece  of  dothfis  gathered  into  as  small  a 
oompass  as  posnble  around  the  waist,  when  it  is  in  the  form  of  a  lady's 
akirt,  only  too  long  fi>r  any  such  purpose.  Its  length,  however,  is  cur- 
tailed, and  everything  set  to  rights  by  gathering  the  bottom,  and  bind- 
ing one  half  of  it  around  one  leg,  just  below  the  knee,  and  the  other 
kidf  around  the  other,  at  the  same  place,  when  it  folds  over,  and 
laaohos  sometimes  to  the  ande.  Tliat  is  all.  When  this  garment  is 
to  he  washed,  it  is  simply  released  firom  the  gathering,  and  it  becomes 
simi^y  a  piece  of  doth.  To  see  it  hung  out  to  dry,  no  one  would  im- 
agine thai  it  had  ever  been  manufaetored  into  a  garment  The  AvQr- 
ite  colors  for  broaddoth  are  snuff  color  and  green.  White  linen,  how- 
ever, is  very  common,  and  very  elegant. 

Around  the  body  is  drawn  a  jacket,  or  round-a-bout  of  the  same  (if 
the  trowsers  be  of  OToaddoth),  which  is  richly  embroidered  with  bladt 
silk  cord,  presenting  beautiful  and  fantastic  designs  upon  body  and 
sleeves. 

I  said  the  trowsers  folded  over,  sometimes  readiing  to  the  andes, 
but  they  often  drop  but  littie  bdow  the  point  where  they  are  gathered 
aiound  the  leg,  leaving  ample  space  to  display  thdr  white  stockingiBi 
which  are  drawn  up  over  the  calves  of  their  legs,  and  which  are  lost 
sight  of  below  in  a  pair  of  red  morocco  slippers,  with  toes  coming  to 
^  point  and  turning  up,  like  a  piur  of  skates. 

To  make  an  extra  dash,  a  small  silk  shaw}  or  scarf,  red  or  parti-col- 
ored, with  a  very  broad,  bright,  ydlow  border,  adorned  with  a  corded 
fringe,  of  yellow  and  red,  the  cords  of  which  terminate  in  littie  silk 
tassels,  of  the  same  colors,  is  thrown  carelessly  over  the  shoulders, 
and  sometimes  over  turban  and  all,  producing  a  most  flashy  appear- 
ance. 

But  tiie  dragoman  is  not  in  full  costume  without  a  sword  four  feet 
long,  a  rusty  old  blade,  bdted  aroimd  him,  and  dangling  by  his  sidci 
though  he  does  not  often  put  it  on  till  he  starts,  at  the  head  of  his  cara- 
van, on  his  important  mission  across  the  desert,  with  the  travellers  he 
may  have  in  charge.  With  a  sword  big  enough  for  a  small  Goliatii, 
and  a  brace  of  pistols  to  match,  each  traveller  being  provided  with  tiie 
latter,  he  is  prepared  for  any  emergency  whidi  may  transpire  during 
tiie  long  journey  of  forty  days  across  the  desert,  and  through  tiie  rob- 
ber tribes  of  the  Bedouins. 

I  have  gotten  something  ahead  of  my  story,  but  before  joining  tiie 


400  LAND  OF  THB.  PYEAJODa 


thread  which  I  have  broken,  I  will  take  occasion  to  remark  that 

jdh^ess,  with  some  modifications,  constitutes  the  eastaaie  of  tiui  gentry 

geiierallj  of  Egypt,  and  the  dragoman  sometimes  assdmes  these  mddi- 

'ications.    Thus,  a  loose  flowing  robe  or  gown  of  siU^  or  wSk  and  oO^ 

t6ii,  with  large  stripes  running  up  and  down,  girded  around  ib6  mitt 

^ih  a  sash  of  showy  colors,  and  long  glossy  fichnge,  and  Teadmig  to 

)^  ancles,  is  worn  over  it ;  at  the  same  time  the  ronnd-»>bout  is  tvans- 

'ferred  from  thie  inside  to  the  outside  of  it.    In  this  ease,  howler,  iVis 

Nearly  robbed  of  its  sleeves,  while  those  of  tiie  gown  are  dit  opetf  iq^ 

td  the  elbows.  f 

'  The  dress  of  the  ladies  differs  but  little  fix>m  that  of  the  men^  except 

tn  material.    This  dress,  when  kept  within  the  bounds  of  deeowfa^TS 

"tO'gaudihess  and  fblhess,  is  hi^y  becoming ;  indeed,  notiing^  eiii  he 

•metre  elegant,  or,  with  the  deduction  of  the  round-a^xmt^  mors  oM 

"and'  comfortable.    The  lower  class  wear  simply  a  coarse  robe  or  goim, 

iKnnetimes  trbwsers  of  the  same  material.  <     **- 

Thus  accoutred,  the  dragoman  struts  about  like  a  peaoo^  bestowing 
boundless  admiration  upon  himself    But  he  approadies  you  Wit^  the 
^trtinost  ^deference  and  humility ;  tells  you,  over  and  over  agtdn,  hikr 
''^ad  he  is  that  you  are  an  American  gentleman,  attd  not  English;  'M 
how  great  a  favorite  he  is  with  the  Americans ;  speaks  any  langldge 
^tb  suit  the  customer  (after  a  fashion),  and  only  askift  you  'tiie  Ittcldest 
'^suni  of  one  hundred  pounds.     A  word  of  encouragement  puts  himin 
''^eicstacies,  and  he  presses  his  suit  with  redoubled  asddMty,  while  a  dis- 
couraging word  clouds  his  brow  with  sadness,  and  a  final  refusal  sebAs 
''liim  drooping  away,  the  victim,  one  would  think,  of  a  broken  hestdt '" 

If  he  succeeds  in  his  suit,  however,  he  is  elevated  above  bimself,  and 
puts  on  airs  of  great  consequence,  and  as  he  blusters  about,  making 

E reparation  for  his  trip,  throwing  out  the  gold  pieces  he  has  reoeivBd 
I  advance,  in  payment  for  the  supplies  he  has  ordered,  you  m^t 
easily  mistake  him  for  the  commissary  of  an  army,  and  even  for  Pacha 

himself. 

Poor  human  nature !    It  is  the  same  in  Egypt  it  is  in  ^'  Fifth  Av- 
enue," and  among  our  Indian  tribes  the  same  it  is  in  all  the  tribes  of 
^arth  in  whom  the  animal  prevails,  and  intellect  plays  a  subordinaie 
part ;  and  especially  the  same  it  is  in  little  children,  before  thg^reaa- 
6ning  powers  have  been  developed.    Indeed,  these  people,  the  man-. 
.  lisst  of  them  all,  are  but  children ;  they  talk  aud  act  like  children,  and 
'  ieein  to  expect  just  such  treatment  as  one  would  bestow  up<Hi  a  litde 
.duUL    In  all  countries,  here  and  there  an  individual  of  this  oharacter 
knay  be  found,  but  to  find  a  whole  nation  of  grown  up  children,  a^d 
not  a  man  among  them  all,  is  a  spectacle  worth  coming  all  the  way  to 
>  Jlgjpt  to  behoUL 


KEFINBD  MEAN17E8&  481 


One  of  the  tonnente  of  4ravel  ib  Egypt — ^wom  than  the  lioe-^v 
eneountered  in  the  currency.  In  other  countries,  when  you  have  suok 
ceeded  in  ge^iting  yottr  fbnde  reduced  to  the  currency  of  the  country^ 
your  financial  miseries  are  at  end ;  you  throw  yourself  upon  your  r»> 
sources^ and  ask  no  &v6rs.  But  not  so  in  Egypt ;  you  may  go  throiigh 
tlie  whole  process,  which  in  other  countries  luts  worked  out  your  emsBp 
cif{>atioii,  and  only  arrive  at  the  threshhold  of  your  financial  trbublea» 
Thieve  troubles  are  compound,  proceeding,  in  part,  from  the  oharaoter 
4tf  the  cinrr^cy  itself  in  part  from  the  refined  meanneis  and  rsBcality 
of  the  shopmen,  and  in  part  from  the  knavery  of  the  Jew  money* 
dumg^rs,  or  sorWjfr. 

In  the  first  place,  you  are  vexed  witii  the  currency  itself.  They  haW 
gold  pieces  so  small  as  to  be  of  little  mofe  value  than  a  York  shillings 
and  they ^would  form  very  pretty  spangles  to  glitter  upon  a  lady's  htu 
Y^u  take  one,  deposit  it  in  your  wallet  or  purse,  with  laiige  chinge,  and 
you  will  be  a  lucky  man  if  it  ever  turns  up  again.  It  would  be  withi« 
bounds  to  say,  that  one  half  of  all  I  received  slipped  away,  I  knew  not 
how  or  where.  I  made  an  effort  to  preserve  some  of  them  as  a  cu- 
riosity, depositing  them  snugly  away,  carefully  wrapped  up,  but  they 
all  got  away  from  me  somehow,  long  before  1  reached  America. 

They  have  a  larger  gold  coin,  of  about  the  value  of  a  dollar;  they 
are  given  you  in  change,  but  the  difHcuulty  with  these  is,  not  that  they 
slip  away  from  you,  but  that  they  stay  by  in  spite  of  you — ^not  one 
in  a  dozen  of  them  will  any  body  touch.  And  why"?  O,  "  tkit^  ari 
fihort  /'*  It  is  charged  upon  the  Jew  brokers  that,  in  passing  through 
their  hands,  they  have  been  pared  off  and  lost  considerable  weight.  Tfcere 
is  not  a  shopman  fn  Cairo,  who  will  not  improve  every  opportunity 
to  put  one  of  these  *•  short "  pieces  upon  you,  if  you  are  not  sharply 
on  the  lookout,  but  they  will  laugh  in  your  face  if  you  offer  one  of 
them  back  again  in  payment  for  goods. 

And  then  again,  you  can  buy  nothing  unless  you  have  the  exad 
change.  The  shopmen  will  change  nothing  unless  you  give  them  a 
chance  to  put  a  "  short ".  piece  upon  you,  but  will  send  you  to  a  tar^- 
faff  (money  changer)  to  get  even  a  shiUing  piece  changed,  for  whicfc 
you  must  pay  from  eight  to  ten  per  cent.  I  have  sometimes  insisted 
upon  their  changing  such  small  pieces  themselves,  and  occasionally 
they  have  done  so  with  very  great  reluctance,  but  always  taking  care 
to  retain,  in  addition  to  the  price  of  the  article  I  had  bought,  the  per- 
centage which  I  should  have  had  to  pay  the  sar^raff. 

But  have  they  no  small  change  ?  An  abundance  of  it.  They  have 
a  copper  coin  of  about  the  value  of  two-thirds  of  a  cent,  and  any  quan- 
tities of  it  can  always  be  bought  of  the  sar'ToffM.    I  have  seen  bushels 


462/  LAND  OF  THE  PYBAIODa 

»              I                                          »^— —                                                                                                                 I          .1         ■         .       I  I  .  ^    ■     P        -      .  ■    ■  11  — — M^WI 

■1       ■«■  III  I  ■  ■■    I    I  ■    ^ 

of  it  piled  up  in  their  dens.  But  bow  is  it  that  after  customers  faafa 
been  buying  it  up  for  years  from  the  «arV(ijf>,  and  paying  it  over  to 
the  shopmen,  the  latter  are  always  destitute  of  it,  while  it  is  pUed  up 
in  the  vaults  of  these  out-throats,  to  be  obtained  only  by  submitting  to 
the  extortion  1 

There  is  but  one  answer  to  this  question.  The  shopmen  have  tlia 
meanness  to  hoard  up  all  the  small  coin  they  reoeive,  and  sell  it  to  tha 
MOT^raffa  at  a  premium,  and  then  have  the  double-refined  meanneas  to 
send  their  customers  to  these  sharpers  to  buy  it  And  the  9ar*raff$^ 
knowing  that  the  small  coin  must  be  had  at  any  price,  have  the 
knavery  to  go  about  among  the  shopmen  to  buy  it  up. 

This  is  certainly  a  refinement  in  knavery,  which  almost  surpasses 
belief,  and  I  should  have  deemed  it  quite  incredible,  had  it  not  been 
fi>roed  upon  my  observation.  ^ 

And  thus  it  is,  that  one  oppresses  another,  each  one  availing  himr- 
■elf  of  all  the  advantage  which  position  and  cunning  will  afford,  to 
fleece  a  fellow  man. 


CHAPTBB  L. 
^  Th»  Land  of  EgypC^ 

For  many  hundreds  of  miles,  as  I  have  sud,  the  valley  of  the  Nile 
is  walled  in  by  ledges  on  either  hand,  rising  firom  two  hundred  to  a 
thousand  feet,  and  from  ten  to  twenty  miles  apart  Outside  these 
walls  all  is  barren  desert,  the  Lybian  and  the  great  Sahara  on  the  west, 
and  the  Arabian  on  the  east  But  the  careering  sands  heed  not  re- 
stndnt  Onward  they  come  before  the  wind,  leaping  the  rocky  breast- 
'work  which  Nature  has  thus  raised,  and  eddying  dowii  into  the  vale 
below,  stand  in  drifted  heaps,  like  great  snow  banks  here  and  there, 
and  sometimes  coming  quite  down  to  the  river  bank,  whelming  t^e 
beauties  of  nature  and  the  hopes  of  man  in  a  common  ruin. 

But  there  is  occasionally  a  break  in  these  venerable  walls,  just  su^ 
iicient  to  open  a  highway  for  caravans  to  one  or  two  points  on  the 
Bed  Sea,  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the  Oases  in  the  Lybian  desert,  and 
the  valley  of  Fayoum  on  the  other— otherwise  they  are  continuous,  un- 
broken oliains,  running  nearly  parallel  with  the  river,  sometimes,  to 
be  sure,  taking  a  semi-circular  sweep,  embracing  an  extensive  plain, 
and  then  again  crowding  up  to  the  river^s  brink,  and  sometimes  taking 
a  zig-zag  course.  The  river  runs  much  nearer  the  eastern  than  the 
western  ledge,  and  sometimes  directly  under  it 


*    QUSSTTOHB  OF  SOIBNCB^— THB  DELTA.  463 

Here  and  there  the  natural  conformation  of  the  rock  takes  the  form 
of  human  device  and  workmanship^  as  of  a  circular  edifice,  surmounted, 
1)y  a  dome,  or  of  a  square  building,  with  a  roof  like  a  house ;  and  once 
upon  the  towering  ledge  I  saw  depicted  the  precise  resemblance  of  a 
tree,  as  though  sculptured  in  the  solid  rock.  Multiform  are  the  gro- 
tesque and  beautiful  imprints  which  Nature  has  left  in  these  rocks. 

And  now,  on  what  geological  principle  is  the  formation  of  this  unique 
and  beautiful  valley  to  be  accounted  for  1  What  convulsion  of  nature 
has  been  so  systematic  and  orderly,  as  to  throw  up  a  pair  of  parallel 
ledges,  separated  by  a  beautifiil  plain,  from  ten  to  tw^ity  miles  in 
widlii,  for  so  many  hundred  of  miles  ? 

And  who  has  the  key  to  the  problem  involved  in  the  existence  of 
the  immense  piles  of  silica  (sand)  which  overlie  nearly  M  this  portion  of 
the  earth,  rendering  a  large  part  of  this  whole  continent  incapable 
of  supporting  either  animal  or  vegetable  life  1  Is  it  said,  that  the 
whole  region  must  be  of  sandstone  formation  1  This  is  far  from  being 
true.  The  western  ledge  is  of  limestone  formation,  while  the  eastern, 
below  Thebes,  is  of  sandstone,  and  above,  of  sandstone,  limestone^  and 
granite.  Beneath  the  alluvial  deposit  of  the  interval,  is  a  bed  of  sand, 
thirty  or  forty  feet  deep,  resting  upon  a  bed  of  limestone,  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  French  geologists,  forms  the  basis  of  the  country. 

The  Delta,  or  Lower  Egypt,  embracing  the  triangle  lying  between 
the  two  branches  of  the  Nile,  with  the  Mediterranean  for  a  base,  the 
sides  of  which  are  near  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  long  each,  is  so  called 
because,  in  shape  it  resembles  the  Greek  letter  of  that  name.  It  is 
much  lower  than  any  other  part  of  Egypt,  and  much  of  it  has  doubt- 
less been  raised  from  the  sea  by  the  deposits  of  the  Nile.  Indeed, 
some  ancient  writers  contend,  that  the  entire  valley  of  the  Nile,  through 
all  its  length,  was  once  an  arm  of  the  sea,  as  the  Red  Sea  now  is.  The 
Nile,  which  was  represented  anciently  to  have  had  seven  mouths,  has  * 
for  centuries  had  but  two ;  but  there  are  still  traces  of  some  of  these 
ancient  channels.  They  were  probably  multiplied  by  digging  canals 
for  purposes  of  irrigation,  the  canals  branching  off  and  taking  the  di- 
rection of  the  coast.  It  is  threaded  in  every  direction  by  canals  of 
modern  construction.  In  the  season  of  overflow,  the  Delta  is  more 
generally  submerged  than  the  valley  higher  up. 

The  mountain  chains  disappear  as  you  approach  the  Delta,  and  the 
eye  wanders  over  the  monotonous  level,  with  nothing  to  obstruct  its 
vision  save  the  groves  of  the  date  palm  that  rise  around'the  mud  villa- 
ges, which  are  scattered  thickly  along  the  river  banks.  There  are  but 
few  remains  of  antiquity  in  the  Delta.  Upon  the  eastern  branch  are 
the  ruins  of  ancient  Bucyrus,  whoso  catacombs  are  of  vast  extent, 


4(^  LAND  OP  THE  tTki^tbt 

taere  being  an  almost  ihtermijaable  succeission  bf  bubterranekii  diUn- 
bers. '  Upon  the  western  branch,  nearly  opposite,  are  to  be  seeti  di^ 
remains  of  ancient  Sais,  from  which  the  Athenians  are  repres^ted  to 
have  sprung,  and  midway  between  the  two,  and  about  equi-distailt  froiit' 
Cairo,  Rosetta  and  Dami^tta,  is  the  modem  town  of  Tanta,  of  wMdfa 
I  have  spoken  in  connection  with  the  tale  of  Hak  Hale,  and  abb  as 
beihg  rendered  famous  for  the  tomb  of  a  Moslem  saint. 

At  or  near  the  two  mouths  of  the  Nile,  respectively,  lire  located  tUil 
cities  of  Rosette  and  Dami'etta,  both  inbonsiderable  places,  of  sofne 
fiileen  thousand  inhabitants  each.  The  great  obi^takile  to  the  prosperity' 
^d  growth  of  commercial  towns  at  either  of  the  inoutli&  of  the  NUb; 
has  ever  beep  the  formation  of  bars,  throufi;h  the  prevalence  of  north- 
erly winds,  which  blow  nine  motlthd  in  the  year,  and  during  that  whole 
time  so  choke  up  the  channels,  as  to  make  them  impassable  even  ib^ 
small  vessels,  the  earthy  matter  Brought  down  by  the  Nile  beiiig  iiiiis 
stayed  in  its  progress.  During  the  remaindier  of  the  year,  tiiis  eardi/ 
ihatter  floats  out  into  the  sea,  leaving  open  channels,  and  forming  k 
sort  of  floating  islands,  which  deceive  and  alarm  marih^rs,  although,  %D[ 
fkct,  they  create  no  obstruction  to  vessels,  which  plow/their  way  dirouglfaE 
them,  leaving  a  turbid  wake  behind  them,  to  though  they  ha^  chaJ^ 
hard  upon  the  bottom. 

The  sea  coast  between  the  two  mouths  of  the  Nile,  from  Danuett^ 
at  the  eastern  mouth,  to  Rosetta,  at  the  western,  and  from  the  latter  to 
Alexandria,  is  occupied,  a  great  part  of  the  distance,  by  lakes,  whid) 
are  Wparated  from  the  sea  by  a  narrow  strip  of  land,  and  the  rest  Hi 
the  way  is  a  low,  sandy  marsh  for  isome  ten  miles  inland^  a  wild^  deso- 
late region,  uninhabited  e^Tcept  by  fishermen.  The  lakes  and  shoald 
afford  abundance  of  fish,  which  are  taken  in  immense  quantities,  and 
•  constitute  quite  an  article  of  export. 

From  the  eastern  side  of  the  Delta,  the  valley  of  Tomlat  takes  of!^ 
extending  eastwardly  forty  miles,  to  the  bitter  lakes,  which  are  but  a 
continuation  of  it  in  a  south-easterly  direction,  twenty-eight  miles  fur- 
tber,  and  which  extend  to  within  thirteen  miles  of  the  Red  Sea.  Thid 
valley  is  supposed,  with  good  reason,  to  hiaive  been  "tbe  land  of 
Croshen,"  where  Jacob  and  his  family  sojourned.  Through  it  a  ship 
canal  was  constructed  about  sixteen  hundred  years  before  the  christum 
era,  opening  a  communication  between  the  Red  Sea  and  the  Nile, 
many  traces  of  which  still  remain.  Upon  the  discovery  that  the  Delta 
was  much  lower  than  the  Red  Sea,  this  canal  was  abandoned,  lest  the 
whole  country  should  be  submerged.  This  valley  was  the  entrance- 
way  from  the  land  of  Canaan  into  "  the  land  of  Egypt." 


JSUBOPEAJS  BA1CBLB&  4«ft 


JOURNAL  LEAVES  OF  EUROPEAN  RAMBLE 


BT  ]>.  BBraUHl  DUFniLO. 


OHAPTEB  IV. 

Oir  BoABD  Stbamer  "  Asia,"  )  ' 

Friday,  July  eth,  1855.      f 

The  city  lay  on  ground  sloping  up  from  the  shore  of  the  Bay,  with 
its  highest  points  crowned  by  a  magnificent  fort,  resembling  very 
much  the  United  States  fort  at  Mackinaw.  Indeed,  no  one  who  has 
seen  this  lovely  Island  of  the  Straits,  with  its  brilliant  coronet  of  for- 
tifications, can  look  put  upon  the  city  of  Halifax  without  being  struck 
with  the  resemblance  they  bear  each  other.  Its  streets  running  back 
from  the  wharves  and  shore,  are  narrow  and  somewhat  dingy  in  appear- 
ance, and  I  fancied  I  could  almost  trace  among  them  the  very  lane  or 
passage-way,  with  its  heavy  woven  picket-gate,  through  which  Macki- 
naw visitors  were  wont  to  press  their  way  from  the  boats  to  the 
celebrated  '^Lasley  House,"  on  the  second  street  back.  Halifax  is 
certainly  beautiful  for  situation,  and  is  said  to  contain  thirty  thousand 
inhabitants  or  more.  The  Bay  is  surprisingly  lovely,  and  is  rendered 
quite  picturesque  by  the  numerous  petty  fortresses  located  at  intervals 
around  its  shores,  one  of  which  crowns  the  top  of  a  beautiful  island 
laying  like  an  emerald  on  the  very  bosom  of  the  Bay,  and  all  of  which 
frown  and  grimly  bristle  with  British  guns.  As  we  crept  along  toward 
the  dock,  a  Mr.  Geoge  L.  Johnson,  styling  himself  "  keeper  of  the  Man- 
sion House,"  received  the  letters  of  our  passengers,  with  their  last 
farewell,  and  promised  faithfully  to  deposit  them  in  the  Post  —  a 
promise  which  I  believe  he  faithfully  kept 

As  soon  as  the  cable  of  the  steamer  was  cast  upon  the  wharf,  an  old 
Newsman  with  a  brass  trumpet  hanging  round  his  neck,  presented  him- 
self with  an  armful  of  British  papers.  The  passengers  (especially  the 
English  and  French)  were  eager  to  receive  the  foreign  news,  confident 
in  the  expectation  that  their  eyes  would  be  greeted  with  a  j)aragraph 
announcing  the  fliil  of  Sebastopol.  But  alas !  for  their  disappointment. 
The  latest  dates  from  the  se^t  of  war,  as  found  in  the  journals,  were 
up  to  the  18th  of  June,  giving  an  account  of  the  battles  of  that  day, 
and  the  repulse  of  the  allies.     A  later  dispatch,  not  appearing  in  the 

VOL.  I,  NO.  X. — 30. 


4§6  l^mOPEAN  HAiillLlgl 

papers,  announced  the  destruction  of  several  thousand,  both  of  English 
and  French,  by  explosions  of  the  enemy^s  mines.  A  fine,  bluff  Eng- 
lishman  stood  forth  upon  the  deck,  and  read  aloud  the  news  to  the 
thronging  passengers,  who  distinctly  caught  its  melancholy  import^ 
above  the  din  and  roar  of  the  escaping  steam.  It  was  sad  to  behold 
the  depression  of  the  English  and  French  on  board,  after  they  had 
learned  the  actual  facts  in  the  case.  Their  heads  drooped,  their  &oes 
grew  long,  they  slid  away  in  pairs  or  triplets  to  condole  with  each 
other,  and  ^^  sad  news  this^''^  or  **  melancholy  tidings  these  from  the 
Crimea^^  fell  like  a  universal  lamentation  on  all  sides  during  the 
remainder  of  the  day. 

Several  of  the  passengers  strayed  up  into  the  city  a  short  distance, 
and  all,  both  ladies  and  gentlemen,  seemed  anxious  to  press  their  feet 
once  more  on  mother  earth,  before  laying  our  course  directly  across 
the  sea.  The  freight,  however,  was  discharged,  in  a  short  time,  papers, 
accounts,  bills  of  lading,  etc,  were  passed  between  our  officers  and  tftie 
Messrs.  Cunard,  the  bell  sunomoned  again  on  board  the  stra^Uag  pas- 
sengers, the  lashings  were  freed  and  away  we  floated  down  the  beauti- 
ful bay,  along  its  lovely  island^,  dose  by  its  .velvet  shores,  and  soon 
found  ourselves  once  more  on  the  heaving  bosom  of  the  ocean. 
Scarcely  had  we  reached  the  limit  of  his  broad  domain,  ere  he  swal- 
lowed us  up  again  in  his  clouds  of  rolling  fog,  compelling  old  Jack  to 
renew  the  screams  of  his  discordant  whistle,  the  officers  to  don  their 
greasy-looking  India-rubber  over-coats,  and  the  passengers  to  sit 
mopingly  under  the  dripping  rain,  wrapped  in  heavy  shawls,  or  betake 
themselves  to  the  shelter  of  the  cabin. 

And  what  a  scene  is  here  presented  to  him  who  for  the  firsb  time 
sails  over  the  Atlantic  in  a  British  steamer  ?  As  before  intimated, 
our  passengers  are  chiefly  English  and  French,  and  the  intercourse 
thus  &r  among  them  is  almost  exclusively  National.  When  the  eve- 
ning has  fairly  closed  in,  and  the  dishes  been  removed,  the  French 
bring  their  lady  companions  to  the  table,  and  call,  first  for  cards, 
and  afterwards  for  wine.  What  is  called  "  Vingt  et  un^^  seems  to 
be  a  favorite  game  among  them,  and  using  coin  or  hazel-nuts 
as  counters,  they  play  away  till  midnight,  and  sometimes  longer,  with 
an  ever  increasing  glee  and  an  apparently  unflagging  interest  in  the 
g%me.  They  do  not  appear  to  drink  much  wine  however — generally 
a  tumble  or  two  of  claret  at  breakfast,  another  at  lunch,  one  or  more 
at  dinner,  and  at  night  their  indulgence  does  not,  as  a  general  thing, 
exceed  the  bounds  of  moderati(»u  Only  let  the  Frenchman  have  about 
him  the  three  great  institutions  of  the  earth  according  to  his  creed, 


JOHN  SULL  AT  BmNBR.  4Gff 

^  I  ■        I  I        I  ^^^— i  II  III  I  m 

<>— W<^— ^^^^^W^W^— ^M^— — ^■■^^■^^»^l^— IW^— — ^^»^i^i1^W^ii— ^— — — an^^ii        ■  I     ■  ^^^.^^    ■■■■■■■■   Ml     I     I  ■!  ^— ^fc^  -  m^mmm^^^^m 

win0y  women,  and  cards,  and  he  dismiases  all  oare  from  his  mind,  and 
Ibr  the  time  is  lost  to  every  other  world  than  hia  own.  | 

John  Bull,  on  the  other  hand,  oontraats  heavily  with  his  lively  ally. 
He  also  plays  cards  all  evening,  but  solemnly ;  and  with  an  air  whi(^ 
in  contrast  with  the  vivadty  and  fun  of  the  frenchman,  amounts  «!• 
most  to  downright  moroseness.  It  is,  with  him,  an  exercise  to  be 
indulged  in  between  deeping  and  waking,  is  rarely  enlivened  by  a 
joke,  though  varied  sometimes  by  an  occasional  growl,  and  is  invaria- 
bly consummated  with  one  or  more  Welch  rabbits  and  bottles  of 
porter.  Indeed,  so  far  as  I  could  observe,  the  difference  betwe^  these 
two  classes  of  players,  it  seemed  as  if  with  the  Frenchman,  the  game 
had  in  itself  intrinsic  fun  and  merriment,  and  that  he  played*  because 
in  this  way  he  developed  both  his  own  and  his  neighbor's  wit ;  while 
the  Englishman  played,  not  so  much  to  keep  himself  awake,  or  to  win 
a  few  sovereigns,  or  Napoleons  incidentally,  as  for  the  more  weighty 
reason,  that  before  bed  time  the  game  was  sure  to  lead  him  into  a  para- 
diae  of  the  aforesaid  rabbit  and  '*  heavy  wet." 

But  John  Bull  at  the  table,  armed  with  knife  and  fork,  is  a  spectacle 
Indeed !  At  break&st  he  drinks  one  or  more  cups  of  strong  coffee, 
aats  ham  and  eggs,  disposes  of  several  large  potatoes,  two  or  three 
great  rolls  of  bread,  adding  perhaps  a  small  mackerel  or  a  few  boiled 
eggs.  This  supply  serves  him  till  lunch  at  eleven  o'clock,  when  he  puts 
away  his  ale  or  porter,  with,  perchance  a  little  brandy,  if  the  air  is 
raw,  and  appropriates  no  small  quantity  of  cold  meats  and  bread  and 
butter.  A  few  cigars  between  lunch  and  dinner  fit  him  for  the  more 
{^orious  experiences  of  the  latter  meal.  Then  he  comes  into  the  saloon, 
revealing  a  face  all  beaming  with  smiles  at  the  happiness  just  before 
him,  takes  his  seat  with  a  solid  emphasis,  rubs  his  hands  and  demeans 
himself  like  one  awaiting  a  summons  into  the  vale  of  Paradise. 
"  Now  is  the  winter  of  his  discontent  made  glorious  by  the  '■  coming 
joy.  His  bottle  of  sherry,  which  stands  in  a  rack  over  his  seat  at 
table,  is  lowered,  and  his  wine  glass  filled,  drained  at  one  effort,  and 
tiien  at  once  refilled.  He  first  dips  out  a  dishful  of  ox-tail  soup,  and 
it  disappears  slowly,  but  with  due  satisfaction  down  the  all>absorbing 
*^  red  lane."  "/«  this  the  veritable  ox-tail^^  inquired  a  lean  Yankee  op* 
posite  me,  who  sat  next  to  one  of  these  loyal  subjects  of  the  Queen. 
"  Ye9,  9irl"  was  the  reply,  in  a  voice  gruff  and  surly  as  a  nor'  wester, 
"  have  you  never  heard  of  that  dish  before  f "  and  immediately  turning 
to  his  brother  Bull  on  the  left^  intimated  that  this  gentleman  from  the 
States,  on  his  right,  had  just  inquired  if  that  was  ox-tail  soup,  and 
rather  insinuated  that  this  Yankee  gentleman  was  strangely  ignorant 
not  to  recognize  so  common  a  dish.    7he  manner  was  coarse  and  un- 


408  EUROPEAN  RAMBLES 


pardonably  rnde,  but  by  the  time  Mr.  Bull  had  retamed  his  head  to  a 
straight  forward  position,  **  the  gentleman  from  the  States  "  was  ready 
for  him,  and  said :  "  Oh  !  yeSy  sir  f  we  have  often  h^rd  of  ox-tail  90^ 
in  our  country^  hut  we  are  not  so  far  reduced  there  as  to  rank  pigs  f^ti^ 
osD  and  hog-tail  soups,  and  other  extreme  dishes^  among  our  luxwrie^^^ 
Mr.  Bull  bellowed  a  little  to  his  Brother  on  the  left,  but  said  notinog 
further  to  the  ^^  gentleman  from  ^e  States."  The  soups  being  disposed 
of,  he  lays  back  on  the  lockers,  and  impatiently  awaits  the  coming  iaof 
the  meats,  swallowing,  meanwhile,  another  glass  or  two  of  sherry,  one 
or  two  lumps  of  bread,  and  drumming  on  the  table  during  the  intec^ 
vals  until  the  covered  dishes  appear.  Then  he  erects  himself  agaiii| 
and  puts  his  eye,  as  it  were,  on  all  the  different  dishes  at  once,  so  as  to 
discover  just  how  each  will  present  itself,  as  soon  as  they  are  revealed 
to  his  hungry  eyes.  The  fish  ke  assails  first,  instituting  oomparisoiui 
between  what  is  before  him,  and  some  a  great  deal  better  that  he  has 
eaten  elsewhere.  Next,  he  plunges  into  two  or  more  slices  of  roBSt 
beef,  covering  the  whole  plate,  but  which  he  adroitly  rolls  up  so  as  to 
afford  space  for  potatoes,  macaroni,  and  such  other  side  dishes  as  he 
especially  relishes.  Ilis  plate  is  then  cleaned  and  dianged,  so  as  to 
make  room  for  mutton  and  its  various  collateral  vegetables,  pickles^ 
&c.,  which  are  quickly  succeeded  by  a  slice  or  two  of  ham,  a  seotioii 
of  com  beef  and  some  other  side  dishes,  all  of  which  are  soon  out  of 
sight.  Again  he  leans  back  in  the  locker  for  rest,  having  first  ordered 
one  or  two  bottles  of  porter,  which  sharpen  him  afresh  for  puddings 
and  pastry.  Of  these  he  eats  liberally,  continuing  his  work  down  even 
to  the  nuts,  raisins  and  cherries,  which  conclude  our  day's  dinner. 
Whether  all  Englishmen  can  lay  equal  claim  with  this  neighbor  of 
mine,  to  that  class  who  are  nati  consumer e  fruges,  I  will  not  yet  under- 
take to  say,  but  it  rather  puzzled  me  to  know  how  his  stomach  found 
sufficient  digestive  capacity  to  work  off  the  grievous  burdens  thus  daily 
imposed  upon  it.  To  me,  these  dinners,  so  long  drawn  out,  are  disi^ 
greeably  tedious  and  perniciously  wasteful  of  time,  which  article,  how- 
ever, very  many  on  ship-board  rank  as  of  little  or  no  value.  But^  by 
taking  a  book  to  the  table,  you  can  manage,  during  the  idle  interval 
between  the  courses,  to  despatch  two  or  three  chapters ;  or,  if  you  are 
busy  in  the  French  Grammar,  to  canter  through  two  or  three  conjuga* 
tions.  It  serves,  also,  as  a  piquant  sauce  to  the  different  dishes  as  they 
come  along. 

The  evening  of  the  6th  continued  thick  and  foggy,  though  the 
fog  grew  more  dense  as  wc  advance^ ;  but  nevertheless,  our  boat 
made  from  eleven  and  a  half  to  twelve  miles  an  hour ;  and  with  the 
whistle  still  screaming,  we  crept  down  to  bed,  about  midnight,  and 


THB  EMBARKATION  FBOIC  HALTFAX— THE  SEA.  469 

•OOD  lay  sound  asleep,  wrapped  in  the  double  mantle  of  fog  and 
blanket. 

July  1th, — ^And  now  we  are  indeed  fiiirlj  afloat  upon  the  deep.  No 
longer  are  the  friendly  shores,  rocky  though  they  be,  within  our 
light.  No  longer  do  the  sweet  birds  sing  within  our  hearing.  No 
longer  do  the  small  vessels  glide  by  with  snowy  wing,  to  the  harbor 
In  our  rear.  No  longer  can  even  Fanc}^  paint,  along  the  far  horizon, 
the  blue  line  of  imaginative  land.  No !  these  have  all  spoken  fare- 
well, and  we  are  now  far  beyond  the  landman's  friendly  arm,  and 
riding  only  where  the  arm  of  the  Almighty  is  made  bare,  and  reigns 
indeed,  the  covering  up  of  our  pathway  by  this  superincumbent  sea  of 
log  seems  intended  to  teach  us  how  absolutely  dependent  we  all  are 
upon  Him  whose  eye  penetrateth  through  all  obstacles — who  maketh 
<«  the  thick  clouds  his  covering,  and  darkness  his  pavilion  round  about 
Him."  If  one  would  leam  his  own  feebleness,  and  be  made  conscious 
that  he  is  but  man,  and  not  God — ^that  his  hand  is  as  feeble  against  these 
ocean-tossed  billows,  as  the  beating  of  an  insect's  wmg  against  the  wild 
torrent  of  Niagara — let  him  "go  down  to  the  se^  in  a  ship,  with  those  who 
do  business  on  the  great  waters."  The  sense  of  vast  loneliness  that  over- 
spreads him  there— the  ease  with  which  the  multitudinous  waves  both 
lifl  up  and  cast  down  the  great  ship,  that  looked  so  colossal  when  he 
first  trod  her  deck,  as  she  lay  lashed  in  the  harbor — the  conscious 
thought  that  he  floats  between  sea  and  sky,  unscreened  by  the  walls  of 
crowded  cities,  or  gilded  ceiling,  and  open  to  the  very  eye  of  Omnis- 
cience, seems  to  bring  him  in  solemn  attitude  before  hjs  Maker,  and 
incline  his  lips  to  say :  "  Be  still,  oh !  my  soul,  and  hear  what  the  Lore! 
thy  God  shall  say  unto  thee !" 

And  yet,  as  he  wanders  thoughtfully  over  his  ship,  and  beholds  her 
pushing  her  boiling  way  through  the  wave,  as  he  looks  down  into  the 
deep  dungeons  of  the  sweaty  firemen,  or  gazes  upon  the  slow  revolving 
engine,  pressing  us  on  through  the  wall  of  waters,  he  is  filled  with  the 
proud^thought,  that  though  man  is  feeble  when  compared  with  One  who 
is  almighty,  yet  is  he  strong  when  contrasted  with  those  who  first 
braved  the  stormy  element.  Here  rolls  along  our  mighty  steamer, 
strengthened  and  armed  with  all  the  improvements  suggested  by  the 
sailor's  experience  of  hundreds  of  years.  This  day  do  we  behold  in  our 
noble  crafl  the  full  maturity  of  the  lily  leaf  that  first  floated  on  Eden's 
silver  wave,  like  a  pleasant  boat  on  gentle  voyage,  or  that  rude  chip, 
which  perchance  the  hands  of  Eve's  dark-browed  son  had  first  fashioned 
into  buoyant  shape,  that  he  might  flee  from  the  groves  and  fruitful  fields 
now  hateM  to  his  thoughts,  and  escape  far  out  into  the  vast  solitudes 


4t»  BUBOPSAN  RAMBLBg. 


of  the  sea,  where  possibly  llie  eje  of  Ian  God  had  never  ranged,  a&d 

the  curse  of  man  could  never  float. 

So  far  has  man  advanced  in  bis  nautical  skill,  that  eight  days 
only  are  now  required  to  bear  us  over  three  tliousand  miles  of 
ocean,  yet  is  he  still  dissatisfied,  claiming  that  he  can,  by  stall 
more  graceful  models,  and  yet  more  powerful  engines,  soon  re- 
duce this  stormy  journey  to  a  week.  "  Conquering  and  to  con- 
quer,'* is  his  motto,  and  his  inevitable  destiny.  Not  only  shall  we 
soon  traverse  tbe  surface  of  the  sea,  by  the  strong  sinews  of  the  steam- 
horse,  in  one  brief  week,  but  over  and  ^ong  its  profoimd  depths  shall 
we  flash  our  converse  with  the  old  world  on  the  lightning's  beam. 

And  here  I  am  reminded  that  our  vessel  is  either  now,  or  soon  will 
be,  sailing  along  the  very  path  proposed  for  the  sub-marine  telegraph 
by  its  confident  projectors.  Between  the  eastern  shores  of  Newfound- 
land and  the  western  shores  of  Ireland  extends  a  plateau,  or  ridge,  not 
more  than  ten  thousand  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  ocean,  and  about 
sixteen  hundred  miles  in  length,  along  which  it  is  proposed  to  lay  the 
telegraphic  wire,  and  thus  unite  the  two  worlds  at  Cape  Eace,  in  New- 
foundland, and  Cape  Fear,  in  Ireland. ,  Fortunate,  indeed,  will  it  be 
for  these  enterprising  schemers,  and  yet  more  fortunate  for  the  world 
at  large,  if  this  chimera  shall  indeed  be  realized,  and  the  depths  of 
ocean  not  only  fathomed  but  converted  into  a  highway  for  commercial 
intercourse.  *  Not  a  great  deal  is  yet  known  of  the  topography  of 
these  wave- washed  regions,  but  Lt.  Maury  has  put  forth  certain  con- 
jectures, which  afford  us  some  ideas  or  notions  of  this  great  trough  of 
the  sea.  He  tells  us  the  basin  of  the  Atlantic  is  a  long  trough  or  fur- 
row, separating  the  old  world  and  the  new,  and  scored  into  the  solid 
crust  of  our  planet  by  an  Almighty  hand.  Here  is  one  of  those  places 
originally  framed  by  the  Creator,  into  which  the  waters  could  be  gath- 
er(^  to  their  place,  and  the  earth  thus  rendered  fit  for  the  habitation 
of  man.  Its  vast  depths  have  yet  to  be  accurately  ascertained,  but 
this  accomplished  scholar  of  the  sea  tells  us,  that,  from  the  top  of 
Chimborazo  to  the  bottom  of  the  Atlantic,  at  the  deepest  place  yet 
reached  by  man's  plummet,  the  distance,  in  a  vertical  line,  is  only  nine 
miles !  The  deepest  part  of  the  north  Atlantic  is  that  over  which  we 
are  now  riding,  somewhere  between  the  Bermudas  and  the  Grand 
Banks ;  and  the  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  are  all  gathered  into  a 
great  basin,  about  a  mile  in  depth. 

*  Mnee  this  Journal  wts  penned,  (he  flrtt  great  effort  to  accomplish  thli  result  haa  been  madtf 
•adhaafaUed.  Whether  It  }•  yet  to  be  accwnpUabed,  dependaoo  the  goad  proTldMm  of  Bh* 
"  who  holdeth  the  winds  in  hit  fttt,  who  hath  bound  the  waters  in  a  ganaant,  and  who  hath  eatab- 
llshed  all  the  ends  of  the  earth.** 


THlB  DEPTHB  OF  THE.fi]^^-THB  SABBATH.  4)Vi 

Were,  ttien,  the  same  hand  that  formed  ^e  earth,  suddenly  to  with- 
draw the  waters  over  which  we  float,  as  he  once  did  those  of  the  Bed 
Sea,  and  dxop  ns  to  their  deep  fonndatioHa,  what  wondrous,  what  ter- 
rible scenes  would  be  there  c^ned  to  our  view !  Hiere  would  w»  be- 
hold great  fish  floundering  in  their  nakedness,  and  slimy  serpents 
trailing  their  black  folds  along  the  solid  ribs  of  earth,  and  throu^  the 
sunken  cayems,  where  they  dwell  in  massive  heaps  ;-«there  would  we 
see  the  Arotio's  shattered  hull,  with  all  her  wasting  dead,  glaring  in  hor- 
rid gaze  up  to  the  world  of  love  and  light,  from  which  they  saafc, 
while  through  her  cabins  and  her  gay  saloons,  sported  grim  monsteri, 
whose  names  and  forms  are  yet  unknown  to  men,  &wning  and  feeding 
on  those  gentle  dead,  that  coward  hearts  decreed  to  deal^,  and  this  in 
order  to  save  their  own  ignominious  lives.  Had  they  but  peridhed  in 
the  escaping  boats,  it  would  have  saved  them  from  that  perpetual  in- 
fiuny  which  indignant  humanity  shall  henceforth  hang  like  a  h^ish 
Bsedal  on  their  hearts.  Who  that  sails  along  these  seas  henoeforth; 
ahiill  £ul,  when  the  night  is  black  with  storms,  or  tiM  day  bedouded 
With  fog,  to  fling  out  upon  the  wild  waves  a  curse  upon  that  retreatSttg 
erew,  and  all  who  bear  such  hearts  as  theirs.  And  while  the  mind's  eje 
drops  its  vision  fiur  down  amid  the  rocks  and  slimy  plants  that  foim 
the  ocean's  bed,  and  beholds,  mouldering  and  ommbling  there,  that 
Bielancholy  wreck,  with  all  her  gentle  and  gallant  dead,  over  whose 
silent  forms  our  proud  keel  now  presses  so  carelessly  on,  let  us  send 
eur  sympathy  down  upon  thcDoa  in  the&r  last  sleep,  so  that  attendant 
spfarits  of  the  deep  may  waft  it  to  the  friends  they  loved,  and  who  yet  li v4 
to  bemoan  them  in  their  dreadful  sepulchre.  A  benison,  then,  upott 
the  trusting  love  of  woman,  so  suddenly  extingulriied  by  the  oold  wavn 
of  ocean  I  A  lament,  also,  over  that  manly  but  unripened  ambition, 
whose  fires  went  out  with  those  of  the  gallant  ship,  as  she  dropped 
slowly  down  to  her  weary  bed  in  the  deep. .  And  thus  breathing 
through  the  darkness,  and  over  our  vessel's  side,  this  benediction  and 
lament,  we  bid  the  sea  and  its  Arctic  dead  '*  good  night !  " 

The  Sabbath  momhig  in  mid  ocean  is  a  solemn  place.  You  wan^ 
der  not  amid  groves  vocal  with  the  song  of  birds,  and  illumined  with 
the  golden  glow  of  angelic  wings,  nor  see  the  peaceful  multitude  wan- 
dering over  verdant  lawns,  as  the  toUing  bell  calls  them,  in  blessed 
company,  toward  the  house  of  God.  Harshly  contrasting  with  this, 
the  sweetest  scene  of  earth,  lies  the  gray  old  sea,  turning' himself  slug- 
gard-like beneath  his  mantle  of  fog,  and  sour  with  its  ever-dripping 
moisture.  Our  hope  was  that  the  sun  would  to-day  reveal  his  power, 
driving  the  {og  and  darkness  from  our  path,  even  as  we  trusted  the 
sun  of  righteousness  might  rise  upon  our  souls,  with  healing  in  his 


4t9  BUROP^AK  RAMBTiKS. 

beams.  But  though  the  sun  of  the  furmament  withheld  himself  from 
Tiew,  there  was  a  shining  in  upon  some  hearts  from  that  inexhaustible 
source  of  spiritual  light  above  the  firmament,  which  warmed  them 
with  a  new  and  increased  love  to  God  and  their  fellow  men.  The  al- 
tar of  worship  amid  the  lonelj  ocean  waves,  is  indeed  a  sacred  place, 
for  the  worshipper  feels  his  soul  unveiled  before  the  great  God  himself, 
who  alone  can  walk  upon  its  billows,  and  who  there  ministers  as  his 
own  high  priest.  There,  where  the  beams  of  his  chambers  are  laid 
upon  the  waters,  do  his  timid  children  feel  that  conscious  presence  of 
Deity,  so  beautifully  confessed  in  the  prayer  of  the  Psalmist,  when  he 
says :  **  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  sea,  even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me,  and  thy  right  haod 
shall  hold  me." 

After  break&st,  a  large  number  of  Bibles  and  English  prayer-bo<^ 
were  brought  into  the  cabin  and  distributed  over  the  tables,  and  «t 
half  |>aBt  ten  oWook  we  were  gratified  by  a  summons  to  public  servicee. 
So  many  of  the  crew  as  could  be  spared  from  dutj,  weremardaed,  by 
the  boatswain,  into^the  cabin,  and  in  their  clean  sailor's  rig,  occupied 
seats  at  the  upper  end.  All  the  passengers  (except  a  very  loquacious 
and  fun-making  Jew,  who  keeps  a  mourning  store  on  Broadway,  and 
one  or  two  of  his  companions)  presented  themselves,  and  soon  the 
ministers  appeared :  one  a  young  man,  named  Edmondstone,  of  the 
established  church,  dressed  hi  gown  and  bands,  and  the  other  the  Bey. 
Dr.  Ryerson,  of  Toronto,  C.  W.,  who  preached  the  sermon  from  1 
Ck>U.,  2d  chap.,  5th  verse :  ^^  That  your  faith  is  not  founded  in  the 
wisdom  of  men,  but  in  the  power  of  God."  It  was  a  plain,  good  ser- 
mon, and  his  argument  was  chiefly  directed  against  modem  skepticism, 
which  was  roughly  and  effectively  handled.  We  sang  three  hynms  to 
good  old-fashioned  tunes,  such  as  are  known  and  sung  of  all  men ;  the 
first  being  *'  Old  Hundred,"  and  the  others  of  kindred  sort  It  was 
pleasant  to  hear  the  voices  of  so  many  people  of  different  nations,  and 
as  yet  nearly  all  strangers  to  one  ahother,  rolling  forth  over  the  sea^ 
accompanied  by  the  heavy  music  of  the  engine,  thundering  beneath  our 
feet,  and  in  sweet  concord  ascending  to  the  throne  of  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel. 


TRATRLS  IN  THE  SOUTHWEST.  418 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH-WEST. 


BT  OILBKRT  HATHA  WAT,  MQ.,  Off  LAPOBTB,  IHD. 

Much  excitement  prevailed  in  town  this  night.  Fire-baHs  were  fly- 
kig  in  all  directions,  and  manj  strange  noises  rent  the  air.  The  ocoa- 
aion  of  all  this  wonder  was  a  wedding  party.  One  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  place  had  taken  unto  himself  a  wife,  whose  &ther  resided  five 
miles  distant  from  where  the  marriage  had  taken  place  the  day  befoi*e; 
aad  now  a  large  party  of  friends  had  assembled  to  celebrate  the  joy- 
ous occasion.  They  had  come  from  all  quarters  and  directions.  It  is 
aapposed  there  must  have  been  at  least  two.  hundred  persons  crowded 
in  a  small  room,  where  they  all  partook  of  the  repast  prepared  for 
them  by  the  groom's  friends,  as  best  they  could.  A  merry  and  h^py 
meeting  had  they !  Here,  none  of  those  nice  rules  of  etiquette,  whiob 
pirevail  in  your  large  city,  were  regarded ;  conventionalism  is  unknown 
in  the  sodety  of  this  new  region.  No  cards  of  invitation,  engraved 
on  enameled  paper,  in  delicately  embossed  envelopes,  were  made  U4e 
o^  for  the  purpose  of  assembling  the  guests,  but  all,  within  an  ap- 
proachable distance,  who  fended  to  do  so,  were  at  liberty  to  atteiid, 
mid  make  merry  with  their  friends. 

.  An  adventure,  which  aiforded  much  food  for  the  gossips  of  the  town, 
took  place  at  this  time,  some  of  the  actors  in  which,  I  met  at  the  house 
of  the  old  man,  where  I  spent  the  night.  I  will  mention  some  of  the 
leading  features,  that  you  may  see  how  the  tender  sentiment  is  cared 
for  in  this  state  of  society. 

It  appears  that  a  family  of  emigrants,  coming  from  Kentucky,  and 
who  expected  to  settle  within  a  few  miles  of  Ann  Eliza,  on  their  way 
fell  in  company  with  other  young  Kentuckians,  bound  for  the  Colorado^ 
where  they  had  settlements. 

After  a  few  days  travel,  it  was  ascertained  that  Cupid  was  busy 
with  his  bow,  his  arrow  and  his  darts ;  had  been  so  successful  in  his 
enterprise  as  to  wound  a  young  woman  of  the  emigrant  &mily,  and 
injure  ofle  of  the  Kentuckians  with  an  attachment ;  and  so  well  had  he 
performed  his  work,  that  the.  parties  concluded  that,  to  heal  the 
wounds  thus  inflicted,  Hymen,  with  his  healing  balsam,  must  needs  be 
called  in  to  perform  his  kind  offices.    To  this  proposition,  the  &tlier 


49A  TBATILS  Ef  THB  BOOTHWSBT. 

^— ^^— ^  —^^-^1         ..ii.iiiij.i. II    111  .1    ■  .^j. —        ..   — ^i^^^^i^,.^ 

of  the  young  woman  withheld  his  assent.  Matters  stood  thus,  till  the 
parties  reached  this  beautiful  hill  side,  which  flourishes  under  the  veiy 
delicate  name  before  mentioned ;  and  when  the  loving  swun  deter- 
mined that  matters  had  proceeded  &r  enough,  in  this  way, — some 
definite  action  must  be  had.  It  was  in  vain  the  fiither  pleaded  that  he 
was  an  entire  stranger,  offering  to  give  his  consent  to  the  ODUuriage 
within  a  year,  should  the  parties  at  that  time  desire  it  No ;  this 
would  not  satisfy  the  exacjting  demands ;  and  as  to  the  young  woman, 
she  was  as  ready  to  have  the  ceremony  performed  then,  as  she  would 
be  at  the  end  of  a  twelve  month.  Much  controversy  ensued,  and 
many  words  were  vainly  expended*  Finally,  however,  when  tiie  par- 
ties separated — the  efhigrant  to  go  to  his  new  home,  five  miles  across 
the  prairie— the  Kentuckian  should  go  to  Sherman,  the  county  town, 
fov*  the  necessary  license,  for  the  father  had  given  his  reluotttit  oonsent 
to  the  union.  But  when  the  license  came,  he  repented,  still  requesting 
that  the  matter  might  be  deferred.  When  I  saw  the  parties,  they  had 
JQSt  returned  from  his  house,  whither  they  had  been  that  day,  widi  tiM 
determinadon  of  bringing  away  the  prize — oonsent  or  not  But  oft 
arriving  at  the  house,  finding  the  fkther  absent,  the  girl  refused  to  be 
married,  as  she  had  not  yet  obtained  his  consent,  prominng,  however, 
(a  do  BO  on  the  following  day,  at  all  events.  When  I  left  the  towtt^ 
^e  *'  three  Kentuekians  "  were  consulting  whether,  at  tins  "^  stage  of 
the  game,''  it  was  worth  while  to  go  again  ,^cw  miles  for  her. 

From  this  place  to  Sherman  there  is  the  worst  **  crossing  ^  I  have 
fbund  in  my  whole  route.  It  is  thus  of  Ghocktaw  river.  You  entei^ 
very  abruptly,  a  deep  ravine,  at  tiie  bottom  of  whidi  rims  a  smafl 
stream  of  clear  water,  looking  very  beautiful  and  enticing.  Hie  bot- 
tom is  the  smooth  sur&ce  of  a  rock,  and  apparentiy  very  firm.  The 
road  turns,  following  the  stream,  in  the  water,  for  some  distance,  and 
then  abruptly  turns  to  the  left  I  pursued  this  the  usual  way,  when, 
to  my  utter  surprise  and  consternation,  the  rock  on  which  I  had  been 
driving,  suddenly  came  to  an  end,  and  my  horse  plimged  into  mud 
and  water  some  three  feet  in  depth.  A  struggle  of  a  most  desperate 
character  ensued — a  so^e  of  the  wildest  nature.  Hiere  I  was,  in  tiie 
middle  of  the  stream,  witii  high  and  almost  perpendicular  banks  on 
each  side  of  me,  covered  with  wild  and  frightfully-looking  trees,  shorn 
of  most  of  their  limbs  by  a  passing  tornado,  witii  horses  struggling  in 
mire  and  clay,  covered  with  water  so  deep  as  to  come  into  my  buggy. 
Hie  struggle  is  kept  up  some  time,  and  fbr  a  few  moments  it  is  difli^ 
ealt  to  say  which  will  have  the  mastery,  the  horses  or  the  mud  and 
w«ter.  To  retreat  is  impossible ;  to  move  forward  seemed  almost  as 
dMsnlt    There  is  no  way  of  escape  but  to  press  on.    I  suumon  «p 


A  BOBDBR  lAWTfiR  4Tft 


tnj  Ml  courage,  standing  erect  in  tlie  buggy,  with  tlie  water  to  my 
knees,  horses  struggling  for  verj  life.  I  show  as  mudi  command  in 
my  voice  as  I  am  capable ;  I  speak  riiarply  to  tbem ;  and,  thanks  to 
the  noble  greys,  out  they  go— much  to  their  as  well  as  my  own  relief* 
We  have  mounted  ike  bank ;  a  plain  road  is  in  front  of  me,  as  fiir  as 
Sherman,  where  I  arrive  in  the  early  part  of  the  evening. 

Here  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  meet  an  old  acquaintance,  a  membet 
of  the  bar,  one  in  whom  is  combined  many  of  tbe  elements  which  go  to 
fliake  up  a  genuine  western  character.  When  I  knew  him  he  resided 
in  Indiana.  He  was  bom  in  Kentucky,  where  he  spent  the  early  paH 
of  his  boyhood.  For  a  few  years  he  was  in  Ohio,  when,  having 
arrived  at  man's  estate,  he  commenced  the  practice  of  his  profession 
in  the  White  Water  country,  as  it  was  called,  in  Indiaittt.  At  .thi| 
period,  the  country  was  very  new,  and  being  covered  with  a  hea^ 
growth  of  timber,  the  settlement-  went  on  slowly.  Tlie  class  of  people 
were  of  that  hardy,  rough  cast,  usually  found  in  such  regions,  at  thait 
time,— Kxf  the  bark^kin  hunting'shirt  order, — ^inured  to  hardships  and 
tcil,  and  exceedingly  fond  of  frolicking,  and  scenes  of  conviviality^ 
ftttdh  as  a  '*  backwoods  "  life  affords. 

Into  all  this  kind  of  life  my  acquaintance  entered  with  the  greateal 
Mst,  and  really  became  a  leader  in  all  fun-lovii^  gatherings.  Endowed 
by  nature  with  more  than  an  ordinary  share  of  intellectual  power^ 
with  a  great  Trnid  of  humor,  sharpened  with  an  occasional  volley  ef 
Wit,  with  an  education  much  more  complete  than  usual  in  his  ciroum^ 
stances  in  Hfe,  his  society  was  much  sought  by  all  rolicking  existenoedi 
who  laughed  at  his  many  jokes,  drank  his  whiskey,  fought  his  l>att^ 
when  necessary,  and  gave  him  what  law  business  they  had  to  be 
transacted.  In  this  way  he  flourished  apace,  and  as  may  be  sup* 
posed,  succeeded  in  his  practice  at  one  bar,  somewhat  at  the 
expense  of  his  standing  at  the  other!  His  reputation,  however,  as  a 
lawyer,  was  by  no  means  limited,  or  his  standing  inferior.  A  few 
years  were  spent  in  this  locality,  when  marvellous  tales  were  circn- 
lated  concerning  the  great,  and  almost  &scinating  beauty,  of  the  nortl^ 
west  portion  of  the  State  of  Indiana,  which  so  captivated  him  Hiat  he 
conclude  to  move  thither,  and  commence  a  career  in  a  new  field» 
TTie  district  to  which  he  came  was  mostly  prairie — settled  very  rapidly 
by  a  much  more  intelligent  and  enterprising  class  of  people  than  those 
with  whom  he  had  been,  accustomed  to  associate.  A  fortunate  leca- 
.tion  of  land  gave  him  position  at  once  as  a  man  of  property,  and  en^ 
abled  him  to  take  a  stand  at  the  bar  to  the  best  advantage,  which  he 
maintained  with  varied  fortune,  till,  becoming  dissatisfied  with  Ae 
many  refinements  which  were  constantly  being  intly)duced  around  Mn*, 


4te  TRAYBLS  IN  THE  SOUTHWEST. 

^i— ^^^■■^™^'      ■  ■■■■■!  '^'  ■■■■■■^  ■■■■■■I  I  ■■■■  ,  ■IIIMIIIM  ^^^^^^^^^^1^^^—^^^ 

_ _ _ 

lie  oonduded,  after  a  few  years  of  endurance,  to  al>aDdon  this  new  field 
for  one  more  congenial. to  his  tastes  and  habits.  He  sold  his  planta- 
tion, and  the  next  location  was  in  the  Piatt  puKdiase,  so  called,  where 
from  some  cause  he  remained  but  a  twelve  month,  when  Texas  ofiEered 
him  a  ^ome,  and  where  he  has  been  for  the  last  twelve  years,  having, 
as  I  learn,  moved  several  times  since  he  has  been  in  the  State.  He  is 
BOW  an  old  man,  and  located  on  the  frontier,  in  a  new  State,  as*  new 
as  the  *^  White  Water  "  country  forty-five  years  ago.  His  reputation 
as  a  lawyer  here  is  as  &ir  as  the  best,  and  for  fun  and  firolic,  as  great 
as  in  early  life. 

Many  a  rich  anecdote  is  told  of  him,  of  early  adventures  and  ex- 
ploits at  the  bar.  His  fun-loving  propensity  often  led  him  to  the 
perpetration  of  his  jokes,  at  the  expense  of  that  decorum  that  should 
ever  prevail  in  a  court  room,  and  against  what  in  drdes  more  refined 
would  be  considered  strict  propriety.  Upon  one  occasion,  when  the 
doctrine  of  caveat  emptor  was  applied  by  his  opponent  in  a  case  0(».« 
earning  a  sale  of  a  horse,  much  stress  and  reliance  was  placed  on  tlue 
well  knovm  principle  of  the  law,  and  m  his  argument  to  the  jury,  he 
found  occasion  to  repeat  the  maxim  several  times,  urgii^  its  appfi- 
eation  and  enforcement. 

When  "  the  Judge,"  for  by  that  appellation  he  was  usually  known, 
same  to  address  the  jury,  he  remarked  that  his  friend  on  the  opposite 
side  hod  said  much  to  the  jury  about  caveat  emptor^  btf  t  he  had  ne- 
glected to  explain  to  them  what  it  meant,  which  he  would  then  under- 
take to  do,  and  which  he  did  in  the  following  manner :  ^*  Caveat  emptor^ 
gentlemen  of  the  jury,  is  a  Latin  term,  which  I  suppose  that  but  few  of 
you  understand.  This  term,  gentlemen,  has  grown  up  in  the  law  to 
be  a  maxim,  and  had  its  origin  on  water-courses,  when  difficulties  some- 
times occurred  among  owners  of  lands  bounded  by  running  streamsi 
owing  to  the  water  washing  the  bank  on  one  side,  and  mitirtng  depoeit 
on  the  other, — ^as  the  bank  caves  off  and  empties  in  the  stream, — the 
term  of  caving  off  and  emptying  in  arose.  When  some  lawyers,  who 
wished  to  show  their  knowledge  of  the  language,  latinized  it,  by  say» 
log  caveat  emptor,  the  plain  English  of  which  is,  as  J  have  ^ven  you, 
and  as  you  readily  see,  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  a  home- 
Irade."  It  need  hardly  be  mentioned,  that  after  so  lucid  an  explana- 
tion of  the  meaning  of  terms,  the  Judge  gained  his  cause. 

He  was  at  one  time  Judge  of  the  court,  and  at  another  a  member  of 
Ihe  senate  of  the  State  of  Indiana,  both  of  which  positi<»3s  I  believe  he 
resigned.  He  now  rides  a  circuit  of  some  nine  counties,  of  more  than 
two  hundred  miles  in  extent,  and  seems  to ,  be  in  foil  enjoyment  of 
health.    I  have  oitiea  shook  my  -sides  at  his  humor  and  merry  jokes^ 


"LOVING  HOUSE."  4YT 


He  is  ever  on  the  frontiers.  He  resided  at  Bohlom  till  society  became 
too  refined  for  biro,  when  he  removed  to  this  place,  on  the  very  oon^ 
fines  of  civilization,  and  now,  after  a  residence  here  of  nearly  two  yearSi 
I  am  told  he  has  it  in  contemplation  to  make'  another  move.  Re 
wishes  to  go  to  the  newly  organized  county  of  Denton,  where  there 
are  but  few  white  inhabitants,  and  where  neighbors  are  so  scarce  thai 
it  will  take  a  day's  ride  to  make  a  call, — where  he  can  have  better 
land  than  any  he  has  yet  seen ;  and  where  his  cattle  will  have  a  more 
extended  range,  to  fatten  and  frolic  on  nez-keet  grass. 

The  "  Loving  House  "  was  the  name  of  the  hotel  at  which  I  stopped^ 
a  small  one-story  building  of  two  rooms,  in  which  there  were  some 
six  or  eight  beds,  a  frame  building,  which  they  had  not  taken  the 
trouble  to  lath  or  plaster,  or  put  down  a  chamber  floor — a  very  poor 
apology  for  a  house,  and  affording  but  feeble  protection  against  the 
piercing  influence  of  a  norther.  A  log  cabin  stood  near  by,  divided 
into  two  apartments,  the  one,, wanting  the  convenience  of  a  floor 
which  served  as  a  dining-room  and  sleeping  apartment  for  several 
members  of  the  landlord'^  family,  and  the  other  without  floor, — ^save 
such  as  may  be  found  any  where  on  earth, — the  cook-room.  Thepass*^ 
age  way,  from  one  of  these  buildings  to  the  other,  was  through  a  pool 
of  water,  of  ten  feet  in  diameter,  in  which  was  placed  several  "  rolling 
stones  "  to  step  on;  to  pass  over  which,  a  person  needed 'to  be  well 
skilled  in  the  art  of  balancing,  if  he  would  avoid  being  plunged  in  the 
mud. 

The  landlady  of  the  establishment  entered  into  conversation  freely ; 
asked  ftie  my  name,  where  I  was  from,  and  where  going,  &c.  Being 
satisfied  on  these  points,  I  was  then  formally  introduced  to  her  daugh* 
ters,  who  made  their  appearance  in  the  room  about  this  time,  and 
who  had  evidently  made  their  toilet  with  much  care,  for  the  occasiokL 

I  learned  that  Loving,  the  proprietor  of  the  house,  five  years  before 
settled  in  Denton  County,  and  had  engaged  in  cattle  raising ;  that  hia 
ranche  being  remote  from  settlements,  the  young  ladies  had  found  it 
lonesome,  and  on  account  of  which  he  had  moved  to  town.  One  was 
engaged  in  teaching  school,  and  the  other  a  pupil.  I  spent  the  night 
here,  and  the  next  day  drove  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Alexander,  six  miles 
from  the  old  trading  post  called  Preston,  on  Red  River. 

This  gentleman  is  a  Ken  tuck  ian  by  birth,  has  for  several  years  been 
engaged  in  merchandising  quite  extensively  through  this  part  of  ihe 
State,  who,  at  one  time,  in  connection  with  his  brother,  had  six  stores, 
or  trading  posts.  His  trade  proved  quite  successful,  from  which  he 
has  now  retired  and  settled  on  a  tract  of  land  of  some  five  thousand 
acres  in  extent^  where  he  has  just  commenced  opening  a  plantation* 


*ti»  TBAVBL8  IN  THK  SOUTHWEST. 

He  has  a  house  built,  two  large  fields  inclosed  with  tbe  ordinary  rail 
&noe,  and  some  sixty  aoros  of  wheat  in  the  ground.  His  lands  are 
generally  rolling  prairie,  interspersed  with  strips  of  timber  land,  to- 
gether with  about  one  thousand  acres  of  riTer  bottom,  covered  with  a 
fine  growth  of  timber.  These  lands  with  few  exceptions,  are  of  the 
riohest  quality  and  well  adapted  to  the  culture  of  wheat,  com,  and 
most  small  grains,  producing  a  fine  quality  of  grass,  with  a  fine  range 
for  catUe  near  the  river.  A  porticMi  of  his  tract  is  a  little  broken,  where 
the  white  lime-stone  before  mentioned  crops  out,  and  this  part,  he 
thinks,  well  adapted  to  sheep,  being  high,  dry,  and  healthy,  producing 
a  grass  sweet  and  nutritious.  Every  thing  is  in  a  new  state  with  lum, 
having  been  on  the  place  but  a  few  months,  most  of  which  time  he  has 
lived  in  a  tent ;  yet,  from  his  ample  means,  his  love  for  agriculture, 
and  great  attachment  for  the  particular  locality,  in  a  few  years  he  will 
doubtless  have  one  of  the  most  beautiful  places  in  the  State,  and  when 
he  gets  it  all  in  full  operation,  it  can  be  none  other  than  very  profita- 
ble. He  will  be  able  to  raise  thousands  of  bushels  of  grain  yearly, 
and  count  his  horses  and  cattle  by  thousands,  and  his  sheep  by  tens  of 
thousands.  A  more  independent  life— consequently  a  happy  and  con- 
tented one — will  be  difficult  to  find. 

His  house  is  situated  on  a  swell,  or  ridge  of  land,  embracing  about 
three  hundred  acres,  gradually  descending  each  way,  lying  as  beauti- 
fully &ir  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive  land  to  lie,  with  a  small  stream 
of  water  running  on  each  side  of  it,  fed  by  springs  at  once  sparkling 
and  pure,  which  unite,  forming  one  stream  three-fourths  of  a  mile  dis- 
tant At  his  left  runs  a  ridge  of  smaller  form  and  extent,  which  he  in- 
tends soon  to  inclose  for  his  sheep  and  young  horses.  The  forty  acre 
field  a4  the  north  of  his  residence  is  intended  for  a  lawn,  in  which  he 
will  plant  trees  of  various  fruit-bearing  qualities,  and  flowering  shrubs, 
being  all  properly  seeded  to  the  curly  nez-keet  grass,  which  forms  a 
strong  sward,  presenting,  the  season  round,  the  appearance  of  a  luxu- 
riant mat.  The  spot  intended  for  his  garden,  a  piece  of  ground  of 
some  two  acres,  having  a  southern  and  eastern  exposure,  he  has  already 
plowed,  and  expects  to  have  in  full  cultivation  by  the  close  of  the 
season,  having  already  employed  an  experienced  gardener,  who  is  sud 
to  understand  aesthetics  and  all  branches  of  his  profession  to  perfec- 
tion. In  this  climate,  as  you  are  aware,  a  person  may  have,  with 
little  trouble,  fruits  and  vegetables  fresh  for  his  table  every  month  in 
the  year. 

By  experiments  made  at  and  near  Preston,  it  has  been  found  that 
apples  may  be  cultivated  very  successfully,  and  it  is  well  known  that 
peachei^  are  grown  in  great  perfection.     Figs,  and  other  fruits  of  this 


THK  MBBTAKG  GRAPB-^PBDDLEBS.  4fl% 

lalitadfi,  suooeed  well;  while  grapes  in  great  variety  are  found  in 
great  abundance  on  the  hiUs  and  along  the  water-courses.  One  variety 
deserves  espedal  mention ;  it  is  of  a  bhie,  or  deep  purple  color,  grow- 
ing in  large  dusters  on  the  first  table  from  Ihe  stream,  where  the 
lands  are  rich  and  somewhat  moist.  It  begins  to  ripen  in  June,  and 
continues  to  ripen  till  quite  late  in  the  season.  The  name  by  which  it 
is  known  in  this  region  is  the  ^^  Mustang."  It  is  not  very  palatable, 
owing  to  certain  stringent  qualities  it  possesses.  It  is  of  value,  how- 
ever, for  I  learn  from  those  who  have  made  the  experiment,  that  it 
pioduoes  a  fine  wine,  resembling  in  color  and  flavor  the  best  quality  of 
Port.  It  grows  in  luxuriant  abundance,  and^will,  doubtless,  in  a  few 
years,  be  tiie  source  of  much  profit  to  the  inhabitants. 

I  spent  a  day  and  a  half  at  Mr.  Alexander's  very  agreeably.  He  is 
a  genuine  Kentuckian,  and  makes  his  friends,  who  call,  quite  at  home. 
Erom  thiB  I  drove  to  Sherman,  where  now  I  am ;  but,  as  you  perceive 
friom  the  commencement  of  this  chapter,  I  am  at  the  Sherman  Hotel, 
and  not  at  the  '^  Loving  House,*'  a  change  by  which  I  am  much  the 
gainer.  You  recollect  what  Hudibras  says  of  the  landlord ;  by  apply- 
ing that  to  mine  host  <^  the  Sherman  Hotel,  you  will  have  a  true  pic- 
ture. I  met  here  a  man  from  Fort  Smith,  on  a  peddling  expedition. 
Your  idea  of  a  peddler,  doubtless,  is  confined  to  a  circuit  of  few  miles 
from  some  central  point,  where  he  obtains  his  supplies,  consisling  of 
linens,  silks,  thread  and  needles,  and  a  few  trinkets  of  various  kinds, 
&c.,  all  of  which  is  very  difierent  from  a  peddler  in  this  country.  The 
man  refered  to  is  now  more  than  five  hundred  miles  from  home,  and 
his  stock  in  trade  consists  of  cooking  stoves,  with  tin  and  copper  finr- 
niture  to  suit.  He  has,  then,  four  mule  teams,  forming  quite  a  caval- 
cade when  oa  the  road.  He  visits  the  small  towns  and  ham^ts** 
makes  a  stay  of  a  few  days,  and  after  effecting  what  sales  he  can, 
passes  on  to  another  point,  and  so  on  till  his  supplies  are  exhausted. 
As  his  stock  becomes  lessened  in  his  progress,  one  team  is  sent  back 
from  time  to  time  to  be  replenished,  with  directions  to  meet  him  fiur- 
ther  on  the  rout,  at  a  point  agreed  upon. 

1  learn  from  this  man  a  sad  tale  of  the  fall  of  a  presbyterian  clergy- 
man whom  I  had  known  in  one  of  the  western  states.  A  man  of  fine 
education  and  apparent  usefulness,  greatly  esteemed  by  his  church  and 
all  who  knew  him.  He  had  been  at  Fort  Smith  several  years,  and 
seemed  to  be  prosperous  in  his  ministry,  when,  for  a  fancied  or  real 
cause,  some  of  the  more  bold  of  his  parishioners  took  umbrage  against 
him,  and  gave  him  twelve  hours  to  leave  the  place,  or  otherwise  the 
ordinary  remedy  in  such  cases  would-  follow.  He  took  the  warning 
and  left.    I  need  not  say  to  you  that  the  cause  was  the  tisital  one  which 


480-  inuyvLS  ih  thb  southwrst. 

drives  men^  and  sometimes  dergymen,  from  their  homes  and  fioa- 
ilies. 

It  ever  gives  me  pain  to  hear  such  storiea  of  any  minister^  bat  of 
one  with  whom  I  have  had  an  acquaintance,  who  has  had  my  esteem 
and  love,  fills  my  heart  with  sadness  and  grie^— madness,  that  a  fellow 
being  had  been  brought  to  disgrace,  and  painful  grief  that  a  wound 
had  been  inflicted  on  the  cause  of  religion. 

Peddlers  of  all  kinds  infest  the  country,  but  those  engaged  in  the 
line  oi  ready  made  clothing  and  jewelry,  seem  to  be  the  most  numer- 
ous. I  meet  them  in  wagons  finished  in  fine  style,  drawn  by  four 
elegant  horses ;  in  wagons  of  less  pretensions,  drawn  by  two  horses, 
and  sometimes  by  one  only ;  then  again  on  the  back  of  a  mustang,  or 
donkey ;  and  sometimes  on  foot,  with  a  pack  on  his  back,  or  a  box  in 
hand,  and  thus  they  traverse  this  wild,  new  region,  fishing  up  what 
money  they  can  for  their  wares,  at  enormous  advance  on  first  cost. 
Then  there  are  the  daguerreotypists,  whose  little  houses  on  wheels 
are  found  drawn  up  by  the  side  of  the  road  in  the  small  towns,  in 
which  they  have  their  camera  obscttra,  and  all  other  necessary  appara- 
tus, to  transfer  the .  image  of  the  human  face  divine  to  the  polished 
surfiice  of  the  metalic  plate.  Some  of  them  are  very  fanctful  contri- 
vances, fitted  up  with  much  taste  and  display.  The  lads  aud  lasses, 
when  they  come  in  from  their  ranches  round  about,  are  sure  to  return 
to  their  cabins  with  their  pictures  encased  in  embossed  leather  and 
golden  tinsel,  to  be  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  all  who  behold 
them. 

This  region  of  the  state  is  settling  quite  rapidly, — ^mostly  by  emi- 
grants from  the  western  free  states.  Afler  you  leave  the  bottomlands 
of  Re(^  River,  slavery  only  to  a  limited  extent  can  be  found.  Most 
of  those  who  can  afford  the  luxury  (as  it  is  called — ^the  plague  and 
trouble,  as  I  would  say),  have  house-servants,  who  sometimes  render 
assistance  in  the  field ;  other  than  this,  it  rarely  exists.  In  passing 
through  the  country  as  I  have,  from  Jefferson,  one  would  hardly  sup- 
pose he  was  in  a  slave  state.  Most  of  the  settlers  are  firom  the  west> 
em  states,  and  live  in  some  manner  as  in  those  states ;  thus  agricultu- 
ral operations  are  conducted  in  the  same  way,  cultivating  the  same 
sort  of  products.  No  cotton  is  raised  except  in  the  bottom  lands  of 
Bed  River,  and  consequently  no  large  plantations  of  negroes.  The 
people  in  this  immediate  section  of  country  are  opposed  to  slavery, 
and  as  the  country  fills  up,  and  extends  in  settlement  into  new  districts, 
as  it  is  rapidly  doing, — when  they  come  to  divide  the  state,  a  free  state 
must  here  be  formed.  I  cannot  think  it  will  be  possible  to  have  it 
otherwise. 


mm  flf  €xM. 


VOL.  1.]  NOVEMBER,  1857,  [NO.  11. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


BT  RBV.  OBO.  DUrriBLDt  D.  D. 


Having  completed  our  examination  of  these  churches,  we  drove  to 
the  Coliseum,  desiring  to  turn  away  from  modem  to  ancient  Rome. 
It  is  among  the  most  noted  of  its  ruins ;  and  has  been  made  familiar, 
among  all  classes  of  readers  almost,  by  the  drawings  of  artists  and 
descriptions  of  travelers.  The  reality  surpasses  all  its  represeritations. 
It  stands  a  vast,  colossal  monument  of  aneient  grandeur,  and  a  won- 
derful comment  upon  the  righteous  retributions  of  God  upon  the 
Jewish  nation.  It  was  founded,  as  history  relates,  by  Vespasian,  A.D» 
72,  and  completed  in  eight  years,  by  Titus,  about  ten  years  after  bi» 
sacking  and  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  Its  site  was  once  a  pond,  en 
closed  within  the  walls  of  Nero's  gilded  palace.  The  pond  having^ 
been  dried  up,  it  was  begun  by  Vespasian,  for  public  exhibitions,  on  a 
plan,  originally  formed  by  Augustus.  Although  it  is  now  in  the  skirta 
of  the  city,  it  then  occupied  its  centre.  Thousands  of  captive  Jews, 
brought  in  slavery  to  Rome  to  adorn  the  triumph  of  the  conqxierer, 
were  doomed  to  drudge  and  toil  in  its  erection. 

The  Ampitheatre,  in  which  the  ancient  Roman  took  such  great  de- 
light, was  demanded  by  his  ferocious  barbarity.  It  stands  the  monu- 
ment of  his  sanguinary  taste,  and  delight  in  cruelty,  inspired  and  sus- 
tained by  the  old  pagan  idolatry ;  and  is  in  perfect  contrast  with  the 
mild,  gentle,  loving  spirit  of  the  christian  religion.  It  was  the  place 
for  the  combats  of  gladiators,  the  hunting  of  or  fighting  with  wild 
beasts,  and  sports,  and  spectacles  of  every  kind,  especially  such  as 
were  bloody  and  terrible.  Five  thousand  wild  beasts  were  slain  in 
the  arena  at  the  dedication  of  the  Flavian  Ampitheatre,  as  it  was  called, 
and  the  games  in  honor  of  it,  lasted  for  one  hundred  days.  Gladiato- 
rial spectacles  continued  for  four  hundred  years,  to  be  exhibited  here. 
Among  the  bloody,  barbarous  sports  that  delighted  the  old  savage 

TOL.  I    FO.  XI. — 31. 


at  NOTES  OF  FOBEIGK  TRAYEU 

BiDman,  none  were  more  terrible  than  the  method  of  martyrdom  prac- 
ticed towards  christians,  by  letting  loose  upon  them  from  their  kennela^ 
ferocious  wild  beasts,  to  devour  them.  Ignatius,  an  eminent  christian 
pastor,  was  brought  all  the  way  from  Antioch,  expressly  to  be  thrown 
to  the  wild  beasts  in  the  Coliseum.  The  soil  was  fattened  with  the 
best  blood  of  earth,  and  the  traditions  of  the  church  are  replete  with 
llie  names  of  noble  martyrs  for  Christ,  who  perish«»d  in  this  arena.  I 
gazed  upon  the  spot  with  intensest  interest.  The  gladiatorial  displays 
and  bloody  scenes  of  butx;hery,  once  practiced  here  by  the  old  pagan 
Romans,  were  almost  lost  sight  of  amid  the  solemn  reflections,  awak- 
ened by  the  recollections  of  those  grand  moral  exhibitions,  which  had 
been  here  made  of  the  power  of  the  love  and  grace  of  Jesus  Christ,  in 
overcoming  their  fear  of  death,  and  rendering  His  martyred  foUowerv 
such  noble  spectacles  of  devotion  to  Him  and  His  cause.  1 

This  immense  pile  was  origihally  called  the  Flavian  Ampitheatre 
till  the  name  of  Coliseum  was  given  it,  some  eight  hundred  years  after 
its  erection,  by  "  the  venerable  Bede,"  who  records  the  famous  proph- 
ecy of  the  Anglo-Saxon  pilgrims : 

'  *«  While  standB  the  Collseom,  Rome  shall  sUmd ; 
WheD  Mis  the  Coliaeam,  Rome  ehaU  fall ; 
And  when  Rome  falls,  the  irorld  I" 

The  ruins  that  remain  are  of  the  grandest  description,  although  it  is 
ageeed,  by  those  whose  authority  as  antiquarians  is  acknowledged,  that 
two  thirds  of  the  original  building  have  entirely  disappeared.  It  waa 
ravaged  by  the  Normans,  and  for  two  hundred  years,  during  the  period 
of  decay  in  the  usefel  arts,  the  Roman  princes  are  said  to  have  ap. 
propriated  the  materials  of  lead,  iron,  copper,  and  stone  it  furnished, 
for  \he  erection  of  their  palaces,  among  which  are  those  of  St.  Mark, 
the  Faimes,  and  the  Barberini.  It  was  once  made  a  fortress,  then 
transformed  into  a  woolen  factory,  and  then  converted  into  a  bazarr ; 
but  all  schemes  for  its  permanent  occupation  and  improvement  failed. 
The  French  cleared  away  the  rubbish  of  ages,  from  the  portico  and 
arena,  and  since  the  days  of  Pius  VII,  his  successors  have  contributed 
to  the  preservation  of  this  vast  fabric 

Its  form  is  that  of  an  ellipsis,  whose  nuijor  axis,  including  the  thick- 
ness of  the  walls,  is  620,  and  minor,  513  feet.  The  height  of  the  wall 
is  said  to  be  157  feet,  the  length  of  the  arena  287,  and  its  width  180 
feet.  An  iron  cross  stands  in  the  middle  of  this  space,  on  which  is 
placarded  by  authority,  a  promise  of  140  days  indulgence  for  every 
kiss  which  is  given  to  it  by  the  poor  idolators  that  worship  it  Around 
(he  arena  are  what  are  called  stations,  at  fourteen  regular  interval^ 
each  marked  with  a  statue  representing  the  "  paaaion "  of  ChrisI 


OOUSIiniL  4«S 


lliere  is  also  a  rude  pulpit,  near  a  small  chapel  amoog  them,  in  which 
a  monk  preaches  every  Friday  of  the  virtue  of  that  cross,  etc,  to  those 
who  assemble  there. 

The  whole  mass  of  building  covers  a  space  of  nearly  six  acres.  It 
was  built  principally  of  travertine.  Immense  masses  of  brick  work 
and  tufa  appear  in  the  interior.  It  consisted  of  four  stories — the 
three  lower,  each  composed  of  80  arches,  supported  by  piers,  faced  with 
semi-columns,  and  the  fourth,  of  a  solid  wall  feced  with  pilasters,  and 
pierced  in  its  alternate  compartments,  with  forty  square  windows. 
The  different  orders  of  architecture  'adorn  the  different  stories,  the 
Doric  being  that  of  the  lowest,  the  Ionic  next,  and  .the  Coriilthian  the 
third  and  fourth.  Each  story  in  the  interior  retreats  somewhat  from 
the  arena,  and  on  the  walls  sloping  down  from  the  arches  and  walk  of 
each  higher  to  the  lower,  were  ranged  tiers  of  seats  for  the  spectators, 
80  situated  and  so  extensive,  that  it  has  been  estimated  there  were  ac- 
commodations for  more  than  80,000  persons,  who  could  all  have  a 
commanding  view  of  the  arena  in  the  centre. 

Numerous  field  flowers  are  to  be  seen  growing  in  different  parts  and 
crevices  of  these  ruins,  which  have  excited  the  interest  of  those  fond  of 
horticulture  and  botany.  It  is  only  when  you  have  ascended  to  the 
summit,  and  look  down  into  the  arena,  and  around  upon  the  whole 
scene,  that  you  can  form  a  correct  idea  of  this  stupendous  fabric.  I 
stood  there  and  solemnly  gazed  upon  the  center  below,  fancying  that  I 
could  almost  depict  the  crowd  of  infuriated  spectators,  whose  thirst  for 
blood  was  grati^ed  with  the  cruel  sports  and  mangled  martyred  bodies 
of  the  deal*  saints  of  God,  who,  during  the  Pagan  persecutions,  con- 
demned to  be  devoured  by  wild  beasts,  so  triumphantly  maintained 
their  testimony  for  Jesus  Christ.  Subsequently,  by  moonlight,  I 
visited  the  same  spot,  and  as  I  mused  over  the  scene,  the  wild  shriek 
of  the  night  owl,  disturbed  by  the  torch  of  the  guide,  made  me  feel 
more  forcibly  than  in  .the  light  of  day,  the  awful  comment,  God  in' 
his  providence  has  made  upon  the  scenes  once  enacted  here.  Specta- 
tors, gladiators,  and  martyrs,  emperors,  senators,  judges,  and  vestal* 
virgins,  all  have  passed  away  to  the  dread  tribunal  of  the  Most  High, 
and  for  centuries  have  been  receiving  their  rewards.  The  proud  ruina 
yet  remain,  the  record  of  their  crimes. 

From  the  Coliseum  we  passed  to  what  is  pointed  out  to  strangers 
by  the  Gcerone,  as  the  house  of  Pilate.  It  is  an  ancient  building,  in- 
deed, but  one  which  I  could  not  see  why  tradition  had  reported  to  have 
been  the  dwelling  of  the  governor  of  Judea.  For  having  been  sum* 
moned  before  the  emperor  Tiberias  for  the  many  crimes  of  his  admin* 
istration*— his  taking  of  fees,  his  extortions,  and  murder  of  i&nooeni 


4M  NOTES  OF  FOBEiaN  TEAYEL. 

penoDB,  4ia,  he  was  soon  after  depriyed  of  his  government,  and,  m 
Basebius  assures  as,  committed  suicide  out  of  yexation  for  his  mis- 
fortunes ;  so  that  it  is  not  at  all  probable  he  lived  in  any  great  grand- 
ear  or  celebrity  at  Rome  during  that  time. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  temples  of  Fortune  and  of  Vesta,  situated 
near  each  other,  and  the  Ponte-Rotto.  The  former  is  now  the  churob 
o#  Santa  Maria  Egizziaca,  belonging  to  the  Armenians ;  and  the  latter 
that  of  Santa  Maria  del  Sole.  The  antiquity  of  these  buildings,  and 
their  architectural  details,  excited  chief  interest,  especially  the  hitter, 
whose  image  is  accurately  represented  in  the  bronze  models  and  mo- 
saics o€ered  for  sale  in  Rome. 

The  ruins  of  the  palace  of  the  Caesars  occupied  more  of  my  attention 
and  time.  I  strolled  among  them,  musing  solemnly  upon  the  signifi- 
oant  comments,  the  providence  of  God  here  records,  upon  the  haughty 
grandeur  of  those  ancient  despots.  Augustus,  Tiberius,  Caligula,  Nero, 
ntus,  and  later  emperors,  once  dwelt  here  in  their  magnificence,  but 
now,  as  Byron  has  aptly  described,  the  mass  of  ruins  that  remain, 

^  Cjpren  and  Ivy,  weed  uid  w»ll  flower,  grown 
Matted  and  massM  together ;  hillocks  heap*d 
On  what  were  ohambers,  arch-deck'd ;  colomot  tferewn 
In  firagmenta ;  choked  up  Taolta,  and  flref coes  iteep'd 
In  Bubterranean  damps,  where  the  owl  peepM, 
Dreaming  it  midnight. 
Behold  Ihe  imperial  mooai  1  *t  Is  thai  th«  mighty  fUl  !1 

Our  Cicerone  pointed  out  to  us  what  he  called  the  study  of  Seneca^ 
and  the  bath  in  which  he  bled  to  death.  It  was  done  with  all  imaginable 
oonfidence  and  gravity,  as  if  the  feet  were  unquestioned ;  whereas  the 
history  of  this  philosopher  represent  him  to  have  died  at  his  own  villa. 
It  was  some  relief  to  see  that  a  portion  of  the  grounds  were  subjected 
to  cultivation.  A  vineyard,  with  various  fruit  trees,  figs,  pomegran- 
ates, &c,  and  a  garden  with  flowers  and  vegetables,  somewhat  en- 
livened this  massive  scene  of  rums. 

The  baths  of  Caracalla,  situated  under  the  eastern  slopes  of  the 
Aventine  mount,  came  next  under  our  review.  With  the  exception 
of  the  Coliseum,  they  are  the  most  extensive  ruins  in  Rome,  occupy- 
ing an  area  of  about  a  mile  in  circuit.  The  vast  extent  of  these  ruins 
proclaims  still  the  magnificence  of  the  original  design.  Giambers, 
stairs,  and  remains  of  viaducts,  are  still  to  be  traced.  A  few  workmen 
were  engaged  in  making  excavations,  intended  to  expose  the  mosaic 
paivement,  which,  in  some  parts,  is  still  extant.  It  is  reported  that 
these  baths  contidned  sixteen  hundred  marble  vats  for  the  convenience 
of  persons  bathing.  Our  cicerone  pointed  out  to  us  various  halls,  and 
among  them  one  wherein  he  told  us  the  philosophers  assembled  and 


COIiUMBABIA.  496 


hold  their  conversations  and  disputes.  The  destruction  of  the  aque- 
4uct,  in  the  sixth  century,  prepared  the  way  to  the  destruction  of  the 
liaths.  They  are  now  a  wondrous  pile  of  ruins,  yet  sufficient  to  con- 
yinoe  the  spectator  of  the  estimate  made,  by  the  old  Romans,  of  the 
value  of  baths  for  purposes  of  cleanliness  and  health,  and  to  comm^id 
to  our  modem  dties  and  towns  an  example  of  much  value. 

Returning  from  these  scenes,  we  visited  one  of  the  numerous  col- 
umbaria which  were  constructed  along  the  great  roads,  and  have  been 
found  near  the  Appian  aod  Latin  ways.  They  were  ancient  s^ulchres, 
formed  by  digging  or  excavating  pits  in  the  rock,  to  the  depth  of 
twenty  or  thirty  feet  and  more,  into  which  you  descend  by  a  stairoase. 
The  sides  are  pierced  with  rows  of  little  niches,  resembling  the  holes 
of  a  pigeon  house,  whence  they  have  taken  their  name.  These  niches 
eontained  the  oUoe,  or  urns,  in  which  the  ashes  of  the  dead  were  depos- 
ited. 

The  names  of  the  persons  whose  ashes  they  contained,  were  some-' 
times  to  be  seen  upon  the  urns,  but  generally  were  inscribed  over  the 
niches.  I  noticed  those  of  slaves  and  liberti,  or  freemen,  and  as  many 
of  "concubines"  as  of  wives.  The  capacity  of  these  columbaria  is 
sufficient  to  contain  the  remains  of  an  immense  number  of  persons. 
They  were  generally  appropriated  for  slaves  and  freemen,  and  built 
near  their  masters'  tombs.  I  observed  small  earthen  lamps  in  many 
of  the  niches,  some  of  which  showed  by  their  smoky  appearance,  that, 
at  one  time  they  had  been  lighted.  The  custos  loci  was  very  vigilant, 
aud  forbade  all  attempts  to  touch  the  urns  and  handle  the  lamps.  He 
seemed  to  be  afraid  that  some  of  the  latter  might  be  abstracted,  which 
probably  has  been  done  iH  some  instances.  After  we  had  left  the 
place,  and  were  about  quitting  the  garden,  within  which  was  the  col- 
umbarium we  had  visited,  he  came  running  back,  and  saying  that  he 
missed  one  of  the  lamps,  and  challenged  our  company  in  relation  to  xt 
There  were  strangers  to  us,  that  entered  when  we  did.  Whether  there 
was  actually  a  theft  perpetrated  or  not,  we  could  not  say,  but  strongly 
suspected  it  was  a  ruse  to  extort  from  us  a  little  more  pay.  After 
these  angry  demonstrations,  to  which  we  gave  no  other  heed  but  to 
smile,  he  either  became  satisfied  of  our  innocence,  or  considered  any 
attempt  fruitless. 

The  labors  of  this  day  were  concluded  with  a  visit  to  the  Pantheon, 
an  ancient  pagan  temple,  once  dedicated  to  M  the  gods  of  Rome,  but 
cpnverted  into  one  of  Roman  Catholic  idolatry  in  A.  D.  608,  by  Boni- 
(aoe  IV.,  under  the  authority  of  the  Emperor  Phocas,  and  bearing  the 
name  of  Santa  Maria  ad  Martyres.  It  is  the  only  temple  of  aadent 
Rome  that  haa  retained  its  original  appearaooe.    On  the  frieae  an  in- 


486  NOTKS  OF  FOBEIGN  TEAYKL. 

oeription  shows  that  its  erection  took  place  in  the  third  consulate  of 
Agrippa,  twenty-six  years  before  the  christian  era.  The  portico  of  this 
building  has  been  pronounced  faultless  by  architects.  It  is  one  hun- 
dred and  ten  feet  long,  and  forty-four  deep,  containing  sixteen  Corin- 
thian columns  of  granite,  with  capitals  and  bases  of  marble.  The  inte- 
rior of  the  temple  is  a  rotunda,  supporting  a  dome,  the  walls  on  whidi 
it  rests  being  twenty  feet  thick.  It  has  no  windows,  but  is  lighted  by 
means  of  an  opeu  circle  in  the  top  of  the  dome.  The  remains  of  Ra- 
phael rest  in  this  temple,  near  one  of  its  altars,  having  been  disinterred 
about  twenty  years  ago,  and  returned  to  the  same  spot,  afler  being 
replaced  in  a  magnificent  sarcophagus,  presented  by  Pope  Gregory 
XVI.  Numerous  chapels  line  the  sides  of  this  rotunda,  containing 
tombs  of  eminent  painters.  This  temple  also  contains  the  chest  in 
which  popish  tradition  affirms  the  napkin  was  preserved  with  whidli 
the  Savior's  face  was  wiped,  when  he  fainted  under  the  cross,  and  ob 
which  were  left  traces  of  his  countenance. 


CHAPTER  XVTL 

Church  of  San  Vteenzo^-^T^e  FhfUamey-^Scola  OceH,'-^Quirnud  Ptitaeef-^San  MatH 
ano.—CeUaoambSf—SL  PauPs  BagiUca^^J%e  VaUcan^—lhe  CcqnioL 

October  20tk, — Rode  this  ▲.  m.  without  the  walls  some  distance  to 
the  church  of  San  Vincenzo  ed  Anastasio  —  a  Capuchin  concern, 
lliis  church  is  exceedingly  plain.  The  pilasters  of  the  nave  contain 
frescoes  of  the  twelve  Apostles.  Behind  the  altar,  t  noticed  this  in- 
•cription :  '^  Clauditur  hie  Crislus,  pants  sub  specei  /actus ;  hospe9 
adorato  numinl  gratus  abi. 

*'  Christ  is  here  inclosed  under  the  appearance  of  bread.  Strangeri 
having  adored  the  Deity,  thankfully  depart.''  Here  is  an  impious  autho- 
ritative proclamation  of  the  most  offensive  and  abominable  feature  of 
popish  idolatry.  As  neither  myself  nor  any  of  my  company  believed 
a  word  of  the  odious  falsehood,  we  indulged  in  a  few  expressions  of 
pity  and  surprise,  at  the  proof  we  had  before  us  of  the  low,  debasing 
idolatry  into  which  Rome  has  apostatized. 

Near  this,  on  the  same  inclosure  of  ground,  is  the  Church  of  Sk 
Paolo  alle  Tre  fontaine,  the  inscription  over  its  entrance,  of  *'  Sandi 
PauH^  apostoli  martyris  locus  ubi  tres  fontes  miraMUier  eruperent^ 
A.  D.  1 594."  This  church,  according  to  the  import  of  the  Latin  words  on 
its  front,  is  remarkable  for  oontaining,  three  fountains,  which,  popish 
tradition  aaya,  sprung  up  severally,  where  the  head  of  the  Apostle 
Paul,  when  lie  was  decapitated,  bounded  three  times  from  the  earA; 


OHUBCH  OP  THE  THHEB  POUNTAINa  481 

and  also  the  stone  on  which  he  was  beheaded.  Three  altars  stand  along 
the  wall,  at  the  base  of  which  there  b  a  marble  basin,  containing  water. 
The  marble  ornaments  conceal  the  soil,  and  render  it  impossible  for 
you  to  say  whence  the  water  is  supplied.  But  the  poor  pilgrims 
drink  the  water,  and  cross  themselves,  and  think  they  go  away  blessed. 
In  a  comer  of  the  church,  inclosed  in  a  sort  of  iron  network  covering, 
stands  a  marble  column,  about  four  feet  high,  bearing  this  inscription : 
**  Columna  supra  qnam  decapitatus  /nit  sanettu  Paulua  apostolus^ 
which  they  say  is  the  very  stone  on  which  the  apostle  was  beheaded,  and 
that  it  stood  in  that  same  place  at  that  time.  The  altars  occupy  lower 
levels  respectively,  corresponding  with  "  the  fountains."  You  pass 
down  several  stairs  su(}cessively,  from  the  first  to  the  second,  and  the 
second  to  the  third,  like  a  staircase  into  a  cellar ,  while  the  floor  of  the 
edifice  is  all  on  the  same  level.  ^  The  fountains,"  are  water  inclosed 
in  marble  chests,  or  basins,  beneath  the  several  altars,  from  which, 
with  an  iron  dipper,  you  can  raise  it,  and  drink.  A  sink,  covered  with 
an  iron  grate,  is  placed  immediately  in  front  of  each  marble  chest. 
Hie  water  is  clear  and  pure,  but  whether  it  sprung  up  from  these  sepa- 
rate fountains,  or  is  collected  in  basins,  or  little  pools  formed  by  the 
same  stream,  or  from  pipes  secretly  laid,  cannot  be  seen. 

From  this  place  we  repaired  to  the  church,  or  Basilica  of  San  Se- 
bastiano,  whose  foundation  dates  back  as  early  as  the  days  of  Constan- 
tine.  It  is  about  two  miles  beyond  the  gate,  on  the  Via  Appia.  The 
body  of  the  saint  is  said  to  be  hurried  under  the  altar,  and  the  chapel 
contains  his  recumbent  statue.  The  sanctuary  is  famous  for  its  relics ; 
among  them  the  priests  show  a  stone,  (  which  they  relate  contains  the 
imprint  of  the  Savior's  feet,  where  he  is  said  to  have  met  St  Peter, )  at 
the  spot  where  the  little  church  of  Domine  guo  radis  was  built,  de- 
signed to  commemorate  the  events  and  so  called  from  the  words  with 
which  it  is  alleged  the  apostle  addressed  the  Savior. 

On  the  left  side  of  the  entrance,  a  door  leads  into  the  catacombs, 
which  bear  the  name  of  San  Calisto,  a  bishop  of  Rome,  in  the  third 
century.  We  descended  into  them,  having  been  furnished  with  lights, 
under  the  guidance  of  the  priest,  who  was  feed  for  his  services.  The 
excavations  are  from  the  rock,  irregularly  made,  and  of  immense  ex- 
tent. They  were  made  by  the  ancient  Romans,  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  tlie  pozzulano,  used  in  making  mortar  for  buildings,  and  wers 
referred  to,  it  is  supposed,  by  Gcero,  in  his  oration  for  Milo,  as  the 
hiding  place  of  Ithicus  on  Uie  Appian  way. 

The  passages  are  often  very  narrow,  winding,  and  sometimes  low, 
running  in  irregular  series  of  stories,  and  occasionally  branching  off  in 
different  directions,  and  opening  into  larger  spaces,  which  evidently 
were  used  as  chapels,  or  places  of  meeting.    Hie  dead  bodies  wer^ 


49B  ^      N0TB8  OF  FOBB»»r  TRA.VKU 

deposited  in  mcfaea^  and  excavstions,  made  for  the  purpose,  along  or  in 
the  sides  of  the  passages.  There  is  little  doubt  that  these  subtenanasn 
SKoavations  were  made  the  abodes  of  christians,  who  fled  there  to  seorale 
themselves  from  the  violence  of  persecution.  There  they  assembled 
in  concealment,  for  their  religious  worship ;  numy  living  and  dyiug  in 
them.  The  very  necessities  of  the  case  made  them  appropriate  plaoes 
for  the  interment  of  their  dead.  Thus,  in  process  of  time,  they  be- 
came, and  were  regarded  as  the  cemeteries  of  the  martyrs.  I  was 
deeply  and  solemnly  affected,  as  I  trod  among  the  ashes  of  those  Ixdy 
dead,  who  bore  testimony  so  nobly  for  Christ,  and  preferred  to  live 
and  die  in  eaves  of  the  earth,  rather  than  renounce  their  iaith  and  deny 
the  Lord  that  bought  them.  Occasionally  open  graves  appeared,  the 
bodies  having  been  deposited  in  the  hollows  made  in  the  rock,  and 
covered  over  with  earth.  The  larger  recesses  seem  to  have  bean 
dosed,  and  sometimes  small  marble  slabs  were  used  for  mere  purposes 
of  inscription.  Many  of  them  have  been  removed  to  the  collection  of 
monuments,  in  the  Vatican.  I  was  surprised  to  see  the  very  great 
number,  these  catacombs  contain,  of  the  graves  of  children.  Hie  old 
pagan  custom  of  having  niches  for  lamps,  near  the  ashes  of  the  dead, 
seems  to  have  been  to  some  extent  observed,  but  whether  by  diris- 
tians  or  pagans,  I  could  not  tell.  The  extent  of  these  catacombs  is 
very  great;  and  sometimes  persons  have  been  lost  and  perished 
in  them,  which  causes  their  entrance  now  to  be  kept  closed  and 
under  watch.  I  was  told  by  a  gentleman,  resident  in  Rome,  tliat  some 
three  years  ago,  a  young  man,  a  Rrussisn,  was  separated  from  his 
oompauy,  during  a  visit  to  these  catacombs,  and  lost  in  the  cemetery ; 
when,  upon  search  next  day  he  was  discovered,  he  was  found  dead,  and 
bis  hair  had  turned  grey !    What  a  horrible  death ! 

It  is  said  that  these  excavations,  in  their  windings,  have  been  tn/o&i 
for  a  distance  of  nearly  twenty  miles,  which  probably  is  exaggerated. 
We  spent  nearly  an  hour  in  following  close  after  our  guide,  as  he  led 
US  up  and  down,  along  the  winding  passages,  stopping  occssionally  ko 
notioe  a  chapel  or  tomb  of  special  interest  What  scenes,  I  thought^ 
have  been  transacted  here !  How  much  prayer,  and  fiuth,  and  su&r- 
ittg  for  Cbrist,  have  these  tortuous  caves  witnessed !  And  how  won* 
derful  the  providence  of  God,  that  his  own  friends  and  followers  shodd 
have  been  compelled  to  seek  safety  where  once  had  been  die  asylum 
ef  thieves  and  robbers !  But  the  blessed  Redeemer  himself  died  as  a 
male&ctor, — was  crucified  between  two  thieves ;  and  if  He  was  tims 
treated,  it  may  not  seem  so  strange,  and  may  serve  to  reocHicile  them 
to  their  lot,  that  his  disdples  should  Are  no  batter.  It  la  not  in  tins 
presenl  world  that  the  christian  is  premised,  or  has  a  right  to  look  for, 


(UTiXIOICB&  499 


ease,  honor,  and  aggrandizement    The  wisdom  of  [God  has  ordaiaed, 
"  that  we  suffer  with  him  that  we  may  be  also  glorified  together." 

JB'rom  these  catacombs  we  went  to  the  church,  or  Basilica  of  St.  Paul. 
It  is  situated  on  the  Campagna,  about  a  mile  and  a  quarter  from  the 
gate,  called  Porta  San  Paolo,  and  on  the  way  to  Ostia.  The  body  of 
the  apostle,  whose  name  the  church  bears,  according  to  tradition  from 
the  earliest'times,  rests  under  the  high  altar  in  this  temple,  having,  '*  ao- 
oording  to  Platina^  the  historian  of  the  popes,  been  removed  from  the 
Vatican  in  A.  D.  257."  It  has,  therefore,  in  past  ages,  been  a  place  of 
great  resort  for  pilgrims,  and,  on  account  of  its-  former  magnifioeooe, 
for  students  of  the  arts.  It  was  burnt  down  about  thirty  years  ago. 
"  The  only  portions  which  escaped  were  the  western  &gade,  with  ita 
mosaics  of  the  thirteenth  century ;  a  colonnade  erected  by  Benedict 
XIU ;  the  tribune  and  the  mosaics  of  the  fifth  century  on  its  vault; 
some  portions  of  the  portraits  of  the  popes ;  part  of  the  bronze  gate ; 
the  forty  columns  of  the  side  aisles ;  and  some  sarcophagi  with  baa 
reliefs."  The  malaria  prevailed  so  fatally  for  years  before  its  destruic- 
tion,  that  it  had  actually  driven  out  the  monks  from  their  quarters 
during  the  sunmier  months.  Notwithstanding  the  prevalence,  ooea- 
sionally,  of  the  malaria,  still  it  has  been  under  process  of  reerection, 
and  upon  such  an  extensive  and  magnificent  scale,  that  it  will  require 
the  labor  of  years  yet  before  it  is  completed.  The  building  comprises 
a  nave  and  aisles,  divided  by  rows  of  columns.  Forty  pillars  of  li^t 
grey  granite,  at  a  cost  of  eleven  hundred  Sctidi  nearly  as  many 
dollars,  and  varieties  of  precious  marble,  lining  the  walls  aud  forming 
the  entablatures,  give  a  very  rich  and  gay  appearance  to  the  interior. 
It  la  intended  to  insert  in  medallion  spaces  above  the  colunms  of  the 
nave,  mosiuc  portraits  of  all  the  popes,  from  the  earliest  period.  Three 
only  are  yet  executed  and  in  place.  In  1847,  the  present  pope,  Pius 
IX,  commissioned  a  numbnr  of  artists  to  execute,  partly  from  original 
portraits,  partly  from  medals  and  coins,  the  liknesses  of  all  the  sover- 
eign pontiffs,  his  predecessors  (two  hundred  and  fifty <three  in  number), 
that  they  may  be  copied  in  mosaic,  to  adorn  this  Basilica,  in  the  pla(|e 
of  those  which  were  destroyed.  The  pictures  are  afterwards  to  be 
placed  permanently  in  the  Vatican. 

At  two  o'clock  we  were  joined  by  Major  Cass,  who  accompanied  us 
to  the  Quirinal,  or  Pontifical  Palace,  on  Monte  Cavallo.  It  is  fine\y 
situated,  and  a  place  of  great  bistoric  interest.  The  pope  was  still  r^ 
siding  in  it  when  I  saw  him  pass  from  it  in  his  carriage,  and  with  his 
cortege,  to  take  his  evening  ride.  Since  that  he  has  withdrawn  to  tl^ 
Vatican,  and  by  the  polite  attention  of  my  fnend  and  fellow  oitiz^ 
our  charffe  (P  o^airet^  we  obtained  permission  to  visit  it    It  is  naarfy 


i 


ab  NOTKS  OF  FOREIGN  TE&TEL 

threo  huodred  years  old,  and  was  embellished  and  reduced  U>  iUprea- 
ent  form  by  Plus  VII,  who  made  it  his  favorite  residence.  We  mv 
here  the  room  in  which  all  the  papal  bulls  are  signed,  and  in  wbidh 
the  conclaves  of  the  "  Sacred  College  "  of  Candinala  are  held,  whoi  as- 
aembled  to  elect  a  new  pope.  From  the  balcony,  over  the  principftl 
entrance  of  tlie  palace,  the  name  of  the  newly  elected  pope  is  announced 
to  the  people.  We  were  introduced  into  the  pope's  bedchamber,  where 
I  remarked  that  the  quilt  and  curtains  of  bis  bed  were  of "  scarlet," 
the  fevorite  color  of  the  papal  court,  and  which  you  meet  at  almost 
every  turn,  in  &ct,  at  the  entrance  of  the  great  temples.  I  thought  of 
the  symbolical  prediction  in  Rev.  17,  4,  which  speaks  of  "  the  womaa 
(who)  was  arrayed  in  purple  and  scarlet  color," 

l^ere  is  a  chapel  in  this  palace,  fitted  up  in  the  style  of  the  Bistuw 
diapel,  in  the  Vatican,  in  which  high  mass  is  performed  on  the  great 
fe<tivals,  when  the  pope  resides  here.  We  passed  through  three  dif 
ferent  rooms,  and  examined  the  numerous  paintings  that  adorn  tha 
walls.  Those  that  quickly  attracted  my  attention,  and  seemed  to  bo 
most  worthy  of  notice,  were  the  stoning  of  Stepthen  by  VoKri,  xba 
Ascension,  and  the  Three  Kings,  by  Vandyke;  the  Ecce  Homo,  by 
Domentekino;  and  St.  Peter  and  St  Paul,  by  Fra  Bartolomeo. 
'  The  gardens  adjoining  this  palace  are  a  mile  in  drcuit,  full  of  statuet 
and  founttuns,  but  excessively  stiff  and  formal.  There  is  an  oi^aa 
here  which  is  played  by  water,  and  which  forms  its  greatest  cariosi^. 
As  I  looked  upon  and  roamed  through  alt  this  grandeur  and  luxury,  I 
oould  not  help  thinking  how  unlike  to  Christ  the  Master,  lived  bis  pre- 
tended vicar. 

Oct.  3I»(.— We  had  intended  to-day  to  have  visited  Tivoli,  abovt 
eighteen  miles  from  Rome,  and  the  ruins  of  Hadrian's  villa,  taking, 
by  the  way,  the  Logo  di  Tartaro,  whose  watera  are  highly  saturated 
with  carbonic  acid  gas,  and  a  smsll  quantity  of  sulphurated  hydrogen, 
end  produce  the  stone  called  travertine,  by  depositing  a  calcareous 
nibstanoe  on  vegetable  and  other  substances  thrown  into  it.  But  tber« 
had  been  so  violent  a  storm  of  thunder  with  rain  last  night,  auoceeded 
by  tempestuous  north-west  winds,  that  the  ride  would  have  been  ex- 
ceedingly uncomfortable.  We  tiierefore  had  to  abandon  our  purpose 
to  visit  this  ancient  Villa  and  its  vicinity,  where  Vit^l  has  pUoed 
the  ^n\>M  of  Albanea,  and  the  temple  of  the  Faun,  the  oeJebiatad 
aninent  Liracle  of  all  Italy. 

I  sprnt  psrt  of  this  day  in  a  visit  to  the  Vatican  to  ezamios  Aa 
museum  iiad  puntings.  The  celebrated  Transfiguration  by  Raphad, 
'bich  bns  been  so  much  admired  and  extolled,  &iled  to  produce  ths 
ImpresBioii  on  me  of  whidi  others  have  spoken.    Ilie  coloring  ia  mj 


THE  VATICAN.  491 


fine,  but  the  representation  of  the  Savior  in  glory  above,  and  the  suf- 
ferings of  humanity  beneath,  are  in  painful  contrast.  It  is  a  bold 
attempt  of  the  artist  to  present  ideal  scenes,  the  grouping  of  which 
together  is  not  justified  by  anything  whatever  in  the  historical  narra- 
rative. 

A  gallery,  called  OalUria  Lapidarea,  three  hundred  and  thirty-one 
yards  in  length,  forms  the  first  division  of  what  bears  the  name  of 
the  Corridor  of  Bramante,^and  is] occupied,  almost  exclusively,  with 
sepulchural  inscriptions  in  Latin  and  Greek ;  on  one  side  Christian, 
on  the  other,  Pagan.  Three  thousand  are  here  classified  according  to 
rank  and  character — gods,  ministers,  emperors,  magistrates,  soldiers, 
artisans,  liberti  or  fried  slaves,  etcj^The  old  Roman  pagan  monuments 
express  hopeless  grief,  but  among  the  later  christian  there  is  a  constant 
reference  to  a  life  beyond  the*  grave,  and  the  inscriptions  are  some 
times  very  touching. 

Christian  bas-reliefe  of  the*early|'centuries,  are  to  be  seen  in  sculp- 
tured monograms  of  the  name  of  Christ,  by  means  of  the  Greek 
letters  x  and  p,  and  of  the  Greek  word  for.  6sh,  ichthus,  the  letter  s  of 
which,  in  Greek  epigraph,  indicate  the  initials  of  the  words  Jesus  Christ, 
Son  of  God,  Savior.  No  attempted  representation  of  the  Godhead 
appeared  on  any  monument  referred  to  the  two  first  centuries.  The 
'subject  of  the  crucifixion  is  rarely  to  be  met  with  for  two  centuries 
later.  These  are  strong  negative  proofs  that  such  representations 
were  not  used  or  approved  among  primitive  christians.  The  worship 
of  images  is  abhorriht  to  the  Christianity  of  the  apostolic  and  martyr 
age.  The  figures  of  the  virgin  and  child  do  not  appear  to  have  been 
introduced  till  the  sixth  century,  when  the  old  pagan  rites  and  idolatry 
revived  in  the  papal  superstitions  and  mariolatry,  and  the  apostasy 
had  developed  itself.  My  previous  visit  to  the  catacombs  gave  these 
sepulchral  monuments  increased  interest.  I  could  have  spent  days 
in  studying  their  inscriptions,  and  with  intense  curiosity. 

The  second  division  of  the  gallery  in  the  Vatican  contains  more 
than  seven  hundred  pieces  of  ancient  sculpture,  in  thirty  apartments. 
Among  the  busts  I  was  particularly  impressed  with  those  of  the 
Emperor  Trajan,  one  bearing  the  name  of  Sallust,  one  of  Commodus, 
Alexander  Severus,  Julius  Ceesar,  Augustus,  Cato,  Caracalla,  Septim* 
ius  Severus,  Hadrian,  the  seven  wise  men  of  Greece,  Demosthenes, 
Alecbiades,  Socrates,  Themistocles,  Pericles,  Zeno,  Periander  and 
Cicero.  But  the  statues  of  Mark  Anthony,  of  Titus  Vespasian  and 
bis  daughter,  and  of  Demosthenes,  more  especially  held  for  a  consid- 
erable time  my  attention.  There  were  statues  of  Venus,  in  abundance, 
and  other  heathen  godesses.    Although  many  of  them  were  nudes^ 


49S  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 

yet  there  was  not  the  same  indelicacy  about .  the  male  figures,  gener- 
ally, that  I  noticed  at  Paris — a  fig  leaf  haying  been  reeenUy  attadied. 
Hie  head  or  statue  of  Antinous,  frequently  occurring  in  difi&raat 
degrees  of  excellency  of  sculpture,  generally  bore  the  same  distinctive 
traits  as  did  the  busts  of  Socrates,  and,  indeed,  of  almost  all  the  well 
known  personages  in  ancient  classic  history.  Socrates  always  is 
represented  with  an  exceeding  snub  nose,  a  beard,  a  low  forehead,  and 
rather  crabbed  &ce,  which  latter  seemed  not  at  all  surprising.  His 
Xantippe  was  enough  to  sour  it.  The  expressions  of  many  of  the 
fitces  seemed  to  correspond  with  the  ideas  I  had  formed  of  their 
character. 

In  one  of  the  halls  I  noticed  two  immense  porphyry  sarcaphagi — 
the  largest  known,  and,  perhaps,  ever  constructed.  One  is  of  St. 
0)nstantia,  daughter  of  the  Emperor  Constantine,  and  the  other  of 
Helena,  Empress,  and  mother  of  Constantine.  The  last  was  found  in 
the  tomb  of  this  English  lady,  the  Empress  dowager,  beyond  the  porta 
maggiore,  now  called  Torra  Pignallara.  It  was  removed  by  Pope  Am- 
astasius  rV.,*to  the  Lateran,  brought  thence,  by  Pius  VI.,  to  the  museum, 
and  placed  where  it  now*  stands.  It  is  very  large,  and  exquisite^ 
polished.  It  is  covered  with  bas-relie&,  representing  a  battle,  with 
the  capture  of  prisoners,  and  portraits  of  Constantine  and  his  mother. 
The  cover,  to  be  seen  only  from  the  gallery  passing  by  the  arch  of  one 
of  the  doors  or  windows,  on  the  outer  side,  is  ornamented  with  figures 
of  victory  and  festoons.  The  sarcophagus  of  Constantia  was  foui^d  in 
the  tomb  erected  for  her  by  the  Emperor,  near  \i^  church  of  St.  Agneis, 
and  its  bas-eliefs  ,  not  so  well  executed  as  the  former,  represent  a  vin- 
tage, which  is  a  symbol,  both  of  the  christians  and  the  Bacchanalians. 
She  died  a.  d.  354.  Blewitt  says,  that  Paul  IL  intended  to  make  it  his 
own  tomb,  and  had  begun  io  remove  it.  Sextus  IV.  restored  it  to  its 
place.  Pius  VI.  placed  it  where  it  now  stands.  Behind  the  sarcopha- 
gus of  St.  Helena  is  a  curious  monument,  found  in  the  ruins  of  a  villa 
near  Tivoli,  bearing  the  name  of  Syphax,  King  of  Numidia,  who  was 
brought  to  Rome  by  Scipio  Africanus,  to  greet  his  trumph.  An 
immense  porphyry  basin,  forty-four  feet  in  diameter,  found  in  the 
baths  of  Titus,  occupies  the  centre  of  one  of  the  halls,  and  stands  on 
a  pavement  of  mosaic — found  at  Otricole,  1780. 

The  Etruscan  museum,  established  by  Gregory  XVI.,  is  fiill^  of 
antiquities  of  all  sorts,  by  which  we  can  trace  the  influence  of  that 
wonderful  people  on  the  early  development  of  Rome,  and  study  tiis 
monuments,  forming  coneecting  links  bettween  the  my tkologies  of 
Egypt,  Greece,  and  Italy.  They  are  comprised  in  a  aeries  of  elevoi 
duunbers.    The  first  rooms  contain  terra  cotta  monuments,  saroo- 


ETRUSCAN  MUSEUM.  4«8 


pbagi  with  recombwt  figures  and  other  remains,  urns,  busts  and 
square  dnerar j  contrivances,  the  handles  of  the  lids  being  portrutA 
of  the  persons  whose  ashes  tfaej  contained.  Among  the  ruins  ate  to 
be  seen  some  having  the  appearance  of  the  huts  inhabited  bj  the 
Latin  tribes,  and  are  supposed  to  be  inscribed  with  Osean  characters* 
Thej  were  fonnd  thirty  years  since,  under  a  supposed  bed  of  lava, 
near  Albano.  The  vases,  goblets,  pateroe,  and  other  antique  remains 
in  several  rooms,  present  the  outlines  of  Grecian  mythology,  the  ' 
Argonautic  expedition,  and  illustrations  of  the  popular  subjects  of 
c£issical  story,  such  as  the  Trojan  war,  the  siege  of  Thebes,  the  labors 
of  Hercules,  the  history  of  Tireus,  gymnastic  sports,  races,  combats, 
nuptial  processions,  and  religious  rites.  The  bronze  and  jewelry  in 
the  ninth  chamber,  are  full  of  instruction  as  to  ancient  customs,  etc. 
A  cista  mistica,  with  handles,  formed  so  as  to  represent  children  riding' 
upon  swans,  and  decorated  with  exquisite  reliefs,  setting  forth  the  battle 
of  Achilles  and  the  Amazons,  which  is  here  seen,  originally  contained 
when  found  at  Vulcli,  various^articles  of  a  lady's  toilet,  such  as  hair- 
pins, rouge,  two  bone  combs,  and  a  mirror.  I  noticed  specimens  of 
different  sorts  of  armor,  household  utensife,  flesh-hooks,  cups,  caul- 
drons, strainers,  jugs,  locks,  weights,  idols,  coins,  and  a  Pelasgic 
alphabet,  scratched  -  on  an  ink  bottle.  The  eta  and  omega,  in  this 
alphabet,  are  wanting,  while  vau  and  kappa  are  present. 

The  jewelry  is  arranged  on  a  polygonal  table,  with  glass  cases, 
which  are  full  of  gold  ornaments.  It  is  surprising  that  most  of  them 
were  found  in  one  tomb.  The  filagre  work,  and  chains,  in  gold, 
equal  the  modern.  The  serpent  seemed  to  be  a  favorite  form  of 
female  ornaments.  The  ear  rings  and  amulets,  fibuloB,  necklaces, 
brooches  and  armlets,  show  the  taste  and  &shion  of  the  day  to  have 
been  as  grand  and  luxurious  as  the  present.  The  paintings  in  the 
tomb  of  Tarquinia  have  been  preserved  and  copied,  and  exhibited 
the  costume  and  domestic  manners  of  the  age,  such  as  a  bear  hunt, 
with  huntsmen  in  full  dress,  a  horse  race,  with  the  judges,  the  stand, 
the  prize,  and  all  the  anxiety  of  the  start,  a  death-bed  scene,  and  vari- 
OBS  dances,  games,  funeral  feasts,  and  religious  ceremonies. 

One  of  the.  galleries,  or  corridors,  four  hundred  and  twenty  feet 
long,  was  lined  with  maps  in  fresco  illustrations,  containing  the  geo- 
graphical knowledge  of  the  period. 

October  22«? — This  day  I  visited  the  Vatican  Library,  and  passed 
through  the  Egyptian  Museum.  The  former  is  an  immense  affairy 
and  immensely  gorgeous.  The  Entrance  Hall,  divided  by  pilasters 
into  two  parts,  is  the  most  splendid  room  I  had  seen  yet  in  any  of  the 
palaces.  Its  ceilings  are  decorated  with  fresco  paintings.  The  likenesses 


494  KOTBS  OF  FOREIGN  TBAYELl 

ci  Libmrian  cardinals,  are  hung  up  in  an  adjoining  a|Mutment.  Ci 
are  attached  to  the  pilasters,  containing  the  manuscripts.  From  one 
end  of  this  chamber  branch  two  galleries,  of  immense  length,  adorned 
irith  fresooe,  and  statues,  etc.  The  perspective  of  the  suite  of  rooms 
ranged  along  these  galleries,  is  very  impressive.  A  statue  of  Aris- 
^des,  in  a  sitting  posture,  interested  me  much.  Columns  of  porphyry 
and  marble,  of  various  sorts,  occasionally  adorn  these  chambers. 
We  could  only  see  the  books  and  manuscripts  in  their  cases.  Im- 
mense treasures  of  human  knowledge  are  here  kept  locked  up  from 
the  world.  Quite  characteristic  of  Rome!  I  presume  that  this 
splendid  library  is  destined  to  share  a  similar  &te  with  that  of  Alex- 
andria.   God  values  things  very  differently  from  men. 

Visited,  also,  the  Capitol,  and  from  the  tcwer's  top,  studied  the 
topography  of  ancient  and  present  Rome.  The  statuary  in  the 
collections  here  is  very  rich.  The  milestone  of  Vespasian  and  NervSi 
which  marked  the  first  mile  of  the  Appian  way,  is  perceived  on 
the  right  of  the  ascent  to  the  building.  In  the  centre  of  the  piazza 
is  the  bronze  equestrian  statue  of  Marcus  Aurelius.  The  busts  and 
statues  in  this  collection  interested  me  more  than  many  others  I  bad 
scfen,  and  possess  very  high  merit  as  works  of  art.  There  are  more 
of  them  historical,  and  fewer  of  them  suggested  by  the  legendary 
&ble8  of  popery.  The  frescoes,  in  the  first  room,  represent  the  find 
ing  of  Romulus  and  Remus,  the  foundation  of  Rome,  the  rape  of  the 
Babines,  Numa  Pompilius,  sacrifices,  the  battle  between  Tullus  and 
Hostilius,  and  of  the  Horatii  and  Curiatii,  and  other  subjects,  taken 
from  ancient  Roman  history.  A  marble  statue  of  Leo  X.  stands  in 
this  hall,  and  statues  of  other  popes. 

The  third  room  contains  the  famous  bronze  wolf  of  the  Capitol, 
a  work  of  early  art,  that  has  given  rise  to  much  controversy,  in  which 
I  feel  no  interest.  The  eighth  room  contains  a  chapel,  with  a  madonna 
and  child  throned,  and  two  adoring  angels  in  the  Heavens,  the  Evan- 
gelists, the  "  Eternal  Father  ^'  on  the  roof,  and  various  saints. 

The  museum  is  the  most  replete  with  interest.  Its  busts  are 
deserving  of  study  for  their  historic  worth,  and  held  me  for  a  long 
time.  A  small  room  on  the  right  of  the  gallery  contains  *^  the  Venus 
of  the  Capitol,^'  a  most  admired  piece  of  statuary ;  by  some  thought 
to  excel  that  of  the  Venus  di  Medici,  at  Florence,  and  the  Venus  of 
Canova,  in  the  palais  petti,  of  that  place.  The  admirers  of  the  art 
praise  extravagantly  this  work.  I  have  no  fondness  for  such  exhibi- 
tions ;  and  still  less  for  the  disgusting  piece  in  the  same  room,  of  Leds 
and  the  swan,  or  of  another  perhaps  even  more  hostile  to  the  purity 
of  a  chaste  mind,  viz. :  Cupid  and  Pysche. 


VATICAN  LIBRABY  AIO)  OAPITOL^  4H 


The  hail  of  the  Emperors  oocupied  my  attention,  and  pleased  me 
most  It  contains,  besides  other  things,  seventy  six  busts  of  Emperors 
and  Empresses,  and  arranged  in  chronological  order — such  as  Julius 
Gffisar,  Augustus,  Tiberius,  Caligula,  Nero,  Titus,  Nerva,  Julia,  eta 
The  hall  of  the  philosophers  was  nearly,  if  not  fully,  of  equal  inter- 
est.  It  contains  seventy-nine  busts  of  poets,  philosophers,  and  histo- 
rians. I  was  struck  with  the  resemblance  in  that  of  Herodotus  to 
Antinous.  Virgil,  Socrates,  Alcibiades,  Seneca,  Pythagoras,  Asdepi- 
ades,  Sophodes,  Euripides,  Homer,  Thucydides,  etc.,  appear  here.  None 
which  bear  the  name  of  Plato  are  authentic ;  all  are  said  to  be  mere 
bearded  images  of  Bacchus. 

In  one  of  the  halls,  on  the  wall,  is  the  celebrated  table  of  Bronze, 
inscribed  with  part  of  the  Lex  regia,  containing  the  Senatus  consultua 
conferring  the  imperial  power  on  Vespasian. 

The  hall  in  which  the  statue  of  the  celebrated  dying  gladiator  is 
placed,  has  very  rich  sculpture.  As  works  of  art,  [many  of  them 
are  of  the  highest  character.  It  is  generally  conceded  that  this  statue 
of  the  dying  gladiator  is  one  of  a  series,  illustrating  the  incursions 
of  the  Gauls  into  Greece.  The  gladiator  is,  in  the  judgment  of  crit- 
ics, a  Ganlish  herald.  The  sculpture  is  supposed  to  be  the  work  of 
Ctesilaus,  the  contemporary  of  Phidias.  Byron's  description  in 
Ghilde  Harold  is  almost  perfect.  It  is  an  admirable  and  perfect  imi- 
tation of  nature,  and  replete  with  feeling. 

In  this  hall  are  the  statues  of  the  Roman  Matron,  the  Amazon, 
superior  to  that  in  the  Vatican,  Alexander  the  Great,  the  colossal 
statue  of  Juno,  Marius,  Brutus,  Ariadne,  or  Bacchus  crowned  with 
ivy,  Flora,  the  famous  statue  of  Antinous,  found  in  Adrian's  villa,  eta 
I  admired  this  last  statue  greatly.  Its  beauty  is  exquisite.  Two  dark 
spots,  or  stains  of  iron  in  the  marble,  appear  in  the  sculpture,  one  in 
the  breast  and  another  in  the  right  leg. 

<  In  the  course  of  this  day  I  visited  the  church  of  St.  John  de  Lateran 
and  afterwards  that  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore.  In  the  forenoon  I  took 
a  second  view  of  the  Corsini  chapel,  and  the  Statuary  in  the  crypt  or 
vault  below,  which,  on  my  former  visit,  had  so  impressed  all  the 
spectators.  In  the  latter,  as  I  stood  contemplating  tiie  architectural 
ornaments,  I  noticed  a  group  of  young  ecclesiastics  or  students  kneel* 
ing  before  the  grating,  or  screen,  that  debarred  access  into  one  of  the 
chapels  near  the  high  altar,  that  of  S.  S.  Sacramento,  or  Sacra- 
ment, the  tomb  of  Sextus  and  Pius  V.,  and  containing  three  statues. 
They  were  about  twenty  in  number,  and  under  the  convoy  of  a  priest 

Most  of  them  seemed  to  be  diligently  saying  over  their  pater  nosters 
and  ave  marias,  as  they  looked  toward  the  altar  within  the  ohapel. 


43^  NOnfiS  OF  FOHEIGW  TRATBL 

Some  of  them,  however,  and  especially  one  Mr  &oed,  light  hured 

joath,  seemed  more  disposed  to  look  at  the  strangers,  than  perform 

his  recitations,  and  resisted  the  efforts  of  one  or  two  of  his  compazi 

ions  to  direct  his  attention  from  us.     After  they  had  gone  through 

their  service  bafore  the  gate  of  their  chapel,  their  attendant  priest,  or 

teacher,  led  them  to  another  on  the  opposite  side — that  of  the  very 

rich  and  costly  oanaraented  Borghere  chapel,  the  tomb  of  Pope 

Paoel  V,  its  founder,  and  of  Clement  VIII.     It  is  remarkable  for  its 

architectural  and  sculptural  decorations,  and  for  the  variety  and  mag- 

nifioence  of  its  marbles  and  precious  stones,  and  other  ornaments. 

As  these  poor  youth  kneeled  in  the  aisle,  and  looked  through  the  iron 

grating,  my  heart  was  toached  with  compassion  for  them.     As  I 

viewed  and  pitied  the  degradation  to  which  their  idolatrous  supersti- 
tion had  reduced  them,  I  noticed  the  turnkey,  or  custodian,  on  the 

iu)er  side.     The  thought  instantly  entered  my  mind — *^  Let  these 

young  men  see  hero,  a  Paul  or  two  can  open  the  gates,  and  introduce 

"  an  heretic''  into  the  ^'sacred  plaoe,^  while  they,  poor  souls,  most  kneel 

from  without.     The  thought  was  instantly  carried  into  effect;  and, 

meeting  Dr.  H.,  who  approached  from  a  different  part  of  the  building, 

and   similarly  influenced,  we  each    slipped  a  piece  of  money  into 

the  hand  of  the  turnkey,  and  entered  together  before  the  kneeling 

company,  when  the  gate  was  quickly  closed  and  locked  in  the  faces  of 

the  kneeling  and  gaping  company.    The  guide  took  us  all  round  the 

chapel,  naming  to  us  ther  different  varieties  of  marble  and  precious 

stones,  and  pointing  out  all  the  curiosities  and  beauties,  and  omaments 

of  the  place,  while  the  poor  lads  without,  continued  their  recitations. 

Subsequently,  after  the  group  had  gone  the  round  of  the  chapels  witli 

their  service,  and  we  had  completed  our  visit,  we  met  them  in  front 

of  the  church,  when  one  or  two  of  them  seemed  very  anxious  and 

particular  to  catch  our  eye  and  proffer  their  salutations.     Poor,  poor 

youth!    They  are  drilled  into  all  the  follies  and  mummeries  of  a 

debasing  idolatry !    When,  when,  will  one  generation  cease  to  corrupt 

and  destroy  another,  and  this  wretched  idolatry  oease  frt>m  the  hob 

of  the' earth  1    Haste,  Lord,  tiie  retribution  of  that  ''  Wicked  One,'* 

whom  thou  shalt  consume  with  the  spirit  of  thy  wrath,  and  destroy 

with  the  brightness  of  thy  coming!     ii.  These.,  2,  B. 

As  we  passed  by  the  Scala  Santa,  I  observed  that  the  '^Staircase  of 
Pilate  "  was  crowded  from  top  to  bottom,  with  thronging  ^'  penitents,** 
seeking  to  liberate  souls  from  purgatory,  by  their  silly  perfbrmanoes. 
It  was  Friday  afternoon,  the  period  most  preferred  for  that  "holy" 
service.  The  chnrches  are  always  open  in  Catholic  countries  till 
twelve  o'clock,  noon,  then  closed  till  two  or  three,  and  thereafter  open 
till  sundown. 


START  FOB  THB  lOBBSBT.  m 


CARAVAN  JOURNEY 

OF  FORTY   DATS 

AOBOSS  THB  LONG  DESEBT. 


BT  WABfiEN  ISHAIL 


CHAPTEB  I. 

The  time  had  noV  come,  that  I  must  leave  Egypt,  or  be  exposed  to 
the  suffocating  blasts  from  the  arid  wastes  of  interior  and  central  Afri- 
ca, which  come  sweeping  down  the  valley  of  the  Nile  with  desolating 
effect,  at  intervals,  through  the  entire  spring  months.  Three  delightful 
months  had  passed  quickly  away,  (O,  how  quickly ! )  since  I  had  first 
set  foot  upon  that  land  of  wonders,  and  the  only  three  months  in  all  the 
year,  which  could  be  passed  there  with  comfort  and  safety.  Entering 
it  soon  after  the  subsidence  of  the  annual  deluge,  I  had  staid,  and  staid, 
and  staid,  under  the  bewitching  influences  which  every  where  beset 
me,  until  warned  away  by  the  approaching  scourge.  As  the  joyous 
days,  and  weeks,  and  months  passed  awa^,  I  had  traversed  the  entire 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land — ^basked  beneath  its  glorious  sun,  and 
inhaled  its  pure  and  invigorating  atmosphere — had  lingered,  with  fond 
delight,  around  its  monumental  wondersy  and  above  all,  had  read  page 
after  page,  and  chapter  after  chapter,  in  the  volume  of  human  nature,' 
which  I  had  never  found  in  any  edition  of  it  I  had  ever  seen  before, 

After  all,  my  departure  was  not  wholly  compulsory.  There  were 
attractions  before  me,  scarcely  less  powerful  than  those  under  whose 
influence  I  had  lingered  so  long  in  Egypt.  The  idea  of  a  caravan 
journey  of  forty  days,  through  the  desert,  though  it  lay  through  roiv 
ber  tribes,  was  not  without  its  fascinations  to  me.  There  are  two 
routs  from  Cairo  to  Jerusalem,  the  one  by  way  of  what  is  called  "  the 
Short  Desert,"  requiring  but  nine  days  desert  travelling,  and  present- 
ing no  objects  of  special  interest,  and  the  other  across  the  ^^  Long  De»> 
ert,"  by  way  of  the  Red  Sea,  Sinai,  and  Petra,  requiring  forty  days. 
Most  travellers  take  the  short  rout,  and  that  was  the  rout  Bayard 
Taylor  took,  on  account,  I  believe,  of  the  lateness  of  his  departure.  Il 
passes  through  no  part  of  the  Bedouin  country,  but  lies  near  the  Mec^ 
terranean  coast. 

VOL.  I  KO.  XI. — 2SL 


Haying  made  up  my  mind  to  cross  the  ^*  Long  Desert,''  I  set  myself 
%0  the  task  of  making  preparations  for  my  departure.  Turning  my 
Iwck  upon  the  whole  tribe  of  dragomans,  I  made  an  engagement  with 
a  Bedouin  Sheik  from  the  neighborhood  of  Mt  Siniu,  who  was  at  Cai- 
to  with  his  camels.  Usually  five  camels  are  required  for  a  single  per- 
son, four  to  carry  provisions,  water,  cooking  utensils,  tent,  provinder, 
dec.,  and  one  to  ride,  the  latter  a  dromedary,  on  account  of  its  lightOiess 
and  fleetness — each  camel  being  attended  by  an  armed  Bedouin. 

Thus  provisioned,  armed  and  equipped,  on  the  25th  day  of  March, 
|ast  before  sundown,  my  caravan  took  up  its  line. of  march  for  the 
desert.  Twelve  miles  from  Cairo,  we  came  to  the  well,  which  is  said 
%D  be  the  Sucooth,  where  the  Israelites  first  encamped.  They  say,  too, 
4iat  Mary  and  the  infant  Jesus  drank  of  Its  waters,  and  hence  it  is  a 
great  place  of  pilgrim  resort 

My  Shiek  is  a  man  of  middling  height^  slim,  with  sharp  featnrea^ 
md  a  keen  black  eye,  and  goes  on  foot^  bare-legged,  with  sandab  upon 
Us  feet,  (soles  tied  on  with  strings,)  and  has  a  sword  dangling  by  faia 
aide,  of  about  the  shape  and  size  of  a  common  grass  scythe,  exoept  tfaat^ 
the  edge,  of  course,  is  on  the  convex  side.  It  has  a  wooden  handle,  and 
the  scabbard  is  of  the  same  clumsy  materiaL  So  that^  with  that  foi> 
midable  weapon,  and  the  little  pistols  they  made  me  get,  and  the  old 
rusty  matchrlock  guns  of  my  Arab  attendants,  I  expect  we  shall  b0 
ajble  to  infiise  a  wholesome  terror  into  the  marauding  Arabs  of  the 
desert,  though  I  cao  assure  them,  that  they  have  little  to  fear  firom 
me,  for  if  I  were  to  fire  at  one  of  them,  I  should  be  just  as  likely  to 
Ut  almost  anything  else.    But  I  shall  never  load  with  powder  aiid  baU« 

We  are  now  three  days  and  a  half  on  our  way,  and  I  must  say,  that 
1  have  been  happily  disappointed  in  one  important  particular.  I  was 
V>ld  that  persons  subject  to  sea-sickness,  were  similarly  affected  by  the 
BBLOtion  of  the  camel,  and  I  had  dreaded  the  e&cts  of  it  more  than  aay- 
Aing  else  pertaining  to  the  trip,  as  I  am  very  subject  to  seasickness ; 
hfut  to  my  delightfiil  surprise,  I  have  found  that  the  motion  of  tihe 
camel,  so  far  from  having  any  such  ^ect,  is  quite  an  easy  and  agreeable 
ene^  not  quite  equal  to  that  of  a  Boston  rodiing-chair,  but  near  enough 
to  it  to  be  quite  comfortable.  I  have  very  little  sense  of  fatigue,  afber 
riding  all  day,  much  less,  indeed,  than  I  have  felt  upon  riding  a  horse 
esly  upon  a  walk  for  two  hours.  The  hard  hoof  of  a  horse,  even  upoa 
a  walk,  comes  down  wiUi  a  jar,  whereas  the  broad,  soft,  cushioned  foot 
of  the  camel  gives  you  no  notice  when  it  touches  the  ground,  or  even 
the  hard  rock.  As  they  are  generally  loaded  in  crossing  the  desert^ 
about  twenty^eight  tx>  thirty  nules  is  a  good  days'  journey. 

From  Oalro  to  Suez,  the  distance  is  about  eighty  miles;  the  roadr 


GAMEia'  wma,  uoLAsn,  susz.  «h 

Um  over  a  desert  plam,  botrnded  rigixt  and  left  by  mosntaln  chains,  so 
tint  therd  only  needs  to  be  a  river  set  to  miming  through  it,  snbjeot  to 
in  annual  orerflow,  to  make  another  valley  of  the  Nile  of  it. 

ik  traversing  a  barren  desert,  whose  snrfiMse  presents  little  but  sand^ 
gra^vel  and  roc^s,  there  is  necessarily  much  monotony.  Add  yet,  1  ha^ 
met  with  many  objects  whidi  interested  ine  not  a  little,  even  in  this 
^ort  rout:  1  was  struck  with  surprise,  to  see  the  multitude  of  ease* 
eisses  of  camels  which  are  strewed  along  the  whole  distance  fromGalre 
to  Suez,  insomuch  that  the  traveller  is  never  out  of  sight  of  than,  and 
some  times  a  half  dozen  of  them  obtrude  themselves  upon  his  vioon 
at  once,  some  of  them  apparently  but  just  having  given  up  the  ghosl, 
o^ers  being  in  a  state  of  decomposition,  others  presaiting  the  bars 
skeleton,  and  others  still  being  scattered  over  the  desert  The  poof 
creatures  are  loaded  down  to  the  utmost  of  their  strength,  and  are  driven, 
and  driven,  and  driven,  until  they  drop  down  dead  in  their  tracksi 
Were  there  no  mountain  ledges  upon  the  right  and  left,  to  hem  in  the 
traveller,  and  no  camel  paths  to  direct  his  steps,  these  bones  would  coQ^ 
duct  him  unerringly  on  his  way. 

All  our  ideas  of  a  desert,  are  associated  with  drought  and  thirst,  and 
yet  on  the  second  day  after  starting,  1  was  not  out  of  sight  of  a  beauti- 
ful lake  for  once  in  the  whole  day.  It  reminded  me  of  our  own  beloved 
Michigan,  which  is  set  all  over  with  them  as  with  jewels.  But  there 
is  this  difference — ikfre  they  are  a  reality,  here  the  appearance  only. 
It  is  what  is  called  the  mmu^e;  you  see  at  a  little  distance  before  yott, 
or  to  your  right  or  left,  what  seems  a  beautilul  sheet  of  water,  but  the 
appearance  vanishes  as  you  approach  it.  It  used  to  be  said,  that  suck 
appearances  were  seen  only  by  persons  suffering  with  thirst,  but  that 
idea  is  eifectually  exploded.  Certunly  1  was  not  thirsty  any  part  ef 
the  day.  My  impression  was,  that  the  phenomena  occurred  where 
there  was  a  slight  depresMon  of  the  sur&ce  of  the  ground.  The  appear- 
ance is,  no  doubt,  occanioned  by  some  reflection  of  the  sun's  rays,  which 
no  mortal  can  explain.  Bat  it  is  a  very  pleasant  illusion,  as  it  adds  a 
charm  to  the  desert. 

Suez  was  formerly  a  jdaceof  much  importance,  but  is  now  an  incon- 
siderable town,  where  the  gum,  incense,  dates,  ^ices,  dec.,  of  Arabia, 
are  exchanged  for  the  com  of  Egypt.  The  navigation  of  the  Red  Sea 
is  so  dangerous,  that  the  commerce  which  used  to  be  concentrated  a(t 
Suez,  has  taken  other  directions.  The  dismantled  shipping  in  its  har- 
bor, give  it  a  desolate  appearance.  It  is  as  dreary  all  about  the  tow^ 
as  in  any  part  of  the  desert,  there  not  being  a  gre^ti  thing  to  be  seen, 
and  the  whids  sweep  through  its  streets  with  great  violence. 

At  Suez,  an  arm  of  the  Bed  Sea  lay  betwecm  us  and  the  Asiatfe 


M0  GASLAYAS  JOUBVBr. 


desert,  but  the  vateraretured^and  we  passed  over  on,  dry  land,  nme 
fras  DO  mirade  in  mj  case,  as  in  that  of  the  Uradites,  when  "the 
horse  and  his  rider  were  cast  into  the  sea,"  to  the  glory  of  tiie  God  of 
krael.  The  waters  did  not  stand  up  ib  a  heap;  it  was  the  ebbing  of 
the  tide,  and  as  we  passed  round  the  head  of  the  gulph,  ^sor  or  five 
miles  above  Suez,  we  found  a  way  thus  made  for  us  across^  which  saved 
eoDsiderable  travel.  We  did  not^  however,  get  quite  across'before  the 
waters  began  to  flow  back  upon  us,  to  the  depth  of  two  or  three  indieiL 

Passing  down  the  LA^rabic  side  of  the  Red  Sea,  some  eight  or  ten 
miles  below  Suez,  we  arrived  at  the  delightful  spot  denominated  by  the 
Arabs  Ain  Mtua,  or  Fountain  of  Moses,  where  the  Israelites  are,  with 
good  reason,  supposed  to  have  first  encamped,  afier  crossing  the  Bed 
Sea,  this  being  the  place  where  the  passage  was  probably  ^fected. 
Here  we  encamped  for  the  night;  it  is  a  little  casis^  and  seemed  a  par- 
adise, as  it  loomed  up  in  the  midst  of  the  desert,  it  being  the  only 
cultivated  spot  I  had  seen  since  leaving  Cairo.  Four  or  five  acres, 
more  or  less,  upon  the  summit  of  a  hill,  are  enclosed,  and  occujned  by 
groves  of  tamarind  and  date  palm  trees,  which,  naturally  beautiful  as 
they  are,  are  rendered  ten-fold  more  so  in  contrast  with  the  surround- 
ing desert.  Interspersed  among  the  trees,  are  several  wells  of  fresh 
water,  which  rise  to  within  eight  or  ten  feet  of  the  surface. 

From  this  lovely  spot  the  prospect  is  delightful.  On  the  west,  at  a 
little  distance,  is  seen  the  Red  Sea,  which,  with  the  mountain  range 
ihat  rises  abruptly  upon  the  opposite  shore,  stretches  away  to  the 
■south,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  To  the  north-east  is  the  harbor  and 
town  of  Suez,  while  to  the  north,  east  and  south-east,  the  desert-plain 
is  strown  with  heaps,  hillocks,  mounds,  banks  and  ridges,  rising  sb- 
Tubtly  upon  its  surface,  and  beyond,  and  overlooking  them  all  on  the 
east,  towers  a  lofby  mountain  range. 

From  Am  Mma^  our  way  lay  over  a  plain,  for  about  a  day  and  a 
half,  with  the  Bed  Sea,  and  the  ledge  upon  the  opposite  shore,  on  our 
right,  and  the  high  mountain  range  above  spoken  of,  upon  our  lefl;. 

And  here,  in  tiie  midst  of  heaps,  hillocks,  mounds,  banks  and  ledges, 
lifting  themselves  up  in  every  direction,  1  found,  also  upon  the  summit 
of  a  hill,  what  has  been  supposed  to  be  the  waters  of  Marah,  whicdi  I 
tried  to  drink,  but  could  not,  ^'  for  they  are  bitter."  I  certainly  cannot 
blame  the  Israelites  for  not  liking  it,  if  it  tasted  then  as  it  does  now. 
The  water  rises  to  within  four  or  five  feet  of  the  surface.  Of  the  identity 
of  this  bitter  fountain  with  the  one  which  the  Israelites  found,  after  a 
three  days*  journey  into  the  wilderness  of  Shur,  there  is  littie  doubt. 

An  English  traveler  remards,  that  ^^the  kind  of  tree  which  Moaes 
found,  and  a  branch  of  which  he  cast  into  the  water,  when  it  was  made 


MARAH,  DRTKB8S  OF  THB  DESBRT.  BOI 

•weetyis  no  longer  to  be  found,"  and  adds,  that  *' there  was  a  palm  tree 
girowing  near."  This  is  assuming,  that  it  was  not  the  branch  of  a  palm 
tree  which  produced  the  wonderful  effect.  Did  he  suppose  that  it  waa 
any  inherent  virtue  in  the  branch,  which  neutralized  the  bitterness  of 
the  waters  ?  With  equal  propriety,  in  my  apprehension,  might  it  be 
said,  that  the  rod  which  Moses  stretched  out  over  the  Red  Sea,  waa 
possessed  of  inherent  virtue  to  divide  the  waters. 

A  few  rods  from  this  pool,  we  entered  a  circular  plain,  surrounded, 
apparently,  with  mountain  ledges.  Betwixt  us  and  the  sea,  a  ledge 
was  here  interposed,  between  the  crags  of  which  a  glimpse  was  afforded 
of  the  blue. mountain  range  on  the  opposite  shore,  while  through  a  nar- 
row opening  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea,  glittering  in  the  beams  of 
the  sun,  peeped  upon  the  vision.  Behind  us  a  succession  of  uncouth 
heaps  rose  upon  the  view,  while  upon  our  left  were  a  number  of  light 
colored  ledges,  rising  one  above  the  other,  and  beyond  them  towered 
a  purple  colored  mountain  range,  far  above  them  all,  which  swept 
around  in  front  of  us,  and  seemed  to  shut  us  in,  although  as  we  advaa> 
eed  we  found  a  passage  way  left  open  for  us.  Upon  this  secluded  and 
romantic  spot,  I  have  no  doubt  the  Israelitish  host  encamped. 

Through  the  opening  we  passed  into  a  sort  of  ravine,  or  what  seemed 
the  deserted  channel  of  a  river,  down  which  we  proceeded  for  some 
distance,  and  encamped  for  the  night  And  I  may  here  remark,  that 
we  have  frequently  crossed  these  dry  channels,  which  present  every 
appearance  of  having  been  formed  by  running  water  in  making  its  way, 
from  the  mountainous  region  back,  to  the  Red  Sea,  as  though,  indeed, 
there  had  been  a  mighty  rush  of  waters.  There  is  every  indication  of 
there  being  occasional  deluges  of  rain  here,  but  it  is  doubtless  at  dis- 
tant intervals,  for  generally  there  is  no  moisture  either  in  the  heavens 
above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath. '  Indeed,  so  dry  is  the  atmosphere,  that 
the  moisture  is  soon  absorbed  into  it  from  every  thing  which  comes  in 
contact  with  it.  I  was  surprised  to  find  how  quickly  my  provisions 
werebereft  of  all  their  moisture,  and  became  dry  and  hard.  Bread 
dsied  as  much  the  first  day,  as  it  did  in  a  month  up  the  Nile,  and  in  a 
very  short  time  it  would  have  pulverized  in  a  mortar.  Orange  peala 
stowed  away,  where  they  would  have  rotted  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, dried  to  a  crisp  in  twenty-four  hours.  Cheese,  cut  in  the 
momix^,  will  look  as  though  it  had  been  cut  a  month,  before  night : 
and  water  in  corked  vessds,  will  evaporate  with  great  rapidity,  and 
will  soon  be  gone,  though  not  a  particle  of  it  is  used.  Nor  are  there 
any  indications  of  moisture  to  be  found  in  the  earth,  by  digging.  A 
person  is  no  more  liable  to  take  cold  in  lying  upon  the  bare  earth, 
than  upon  a  couch  within  doors.  And  yet  the  desert  shrubs  to  beseem 
heare  and  there,  manage  some  ^ay  to  grow. 


04IU.VAK  JOUWIT. 


CaBLAFTER  II. 

About  nine  o'clock  in  the  mondDg  of  the  third  day  fixna  Am 
(the  Fountain  of  Moses),  we  arrived  at  Elim,  where  die 
encamped  after  leaving  Marah ;  and  where,  the  aa^red  faiatorian  sagni, 
tliere  are  "  twelve  wells,  and  three  score  aad  ten  palm  trees."  The 
welle  are  diere-^or  rather,  what  we  should  eall  springs, — the  walsr 
rising  to  within  six  or  eight  inches  of  the  surfiuse  of  the  ground.  The 
number  maj  be  increased  idmest  indefinitely  by  digging  down  to 
tfcat  depth  at  different  places. .  There  are  somewhere  near  a  doBBn 
excavations  at  present,  where  the  water  rises  clear  as  crystaL  Ue 
palm-trees  are  also  diere — not  the  same  trees,  but  their  sueeessoss,-^ 
not  exactly  three  soore  and  ten,  probably,  and  yet  not  &r  irom  it,  big 
and  little.  This  place  I  should  judge  to  be  about  ten  or  twelve  miles 
from  liarah.  It  is  upon  the  border  of  a  delightM  plain,  a  mile  ot 
more  in  diameter,  which,  lilce  that  at  Marah,  is  walled  in  by  oraggjr 
heights  on  every  side,  presenting  an  aspect  of  wild  magnifioenoa. 
Hiis  little  spot,  thus  defended  against  tiie  sweeping  winds  of  Ite 
desert,  and  Aimished  with  an  un&iling  supply  ai  pure  water,  might 
be  made  a  little  paradise  of,  by  adding  the  elements  neeesaary  to 
make  it  productive,  which  might  be  easily  done.  As  it  ia,  the  palm- 
tree  seems  to  grow  thriftily  upon  it  And  here  a  species  of  broom, 
all  covered  with  flowers,  is  found  in  bunches,  scattered  all  over  the 
plain.  The  flowers  are  small,  of  a  spotless  white,  sad  so  thickly  set 
4s  to  nearly  hide  the  foliage  of  the  shrub.  They  are  even  mora  fra- 
grant than  tbe  rose,  but  are  doomed  ^^  to  waste  their  sweetnees  on  the 
desert  air." — ^This  plain  was  doubtless  another  camping-ground. 

Passing  through  a  narrow  defile,  we  altered  another  similar  piaia, 
with  a  similar  endosure  of  jagged  mountain  rock,  and  |»reseatiog  the 
same  general  appearance.  From  this  we  passed  into  another,  and 
another,  and  another  still,  makmg  five  of  these  wildly-romantic  am{M- 
theatres,  connected,  by  narrow  passes,  one  with  another.  From  the 
kst  of  them,  we  entered  one  of  those  apparently  river  beds,  of  consid- 
erable width,  down  which  we  descended  several  miles,  between  rugged 
clif&,  to  the  sea,  which  we  had  left  in  the  morning. 

We  passed  close  along  the  shore  of  the  Red  Sea,  and  I  was  much 
refreshed  by  bathing  in  its  dear,  pellndd  waters,  which  were  quite 
warm.  The  sun  was  fhr  down  in  the  west,  and  its  golden  beams  ftil 
with  bewitching  effect  upon  the  rocky  heights  which  reaiM  themselves 
up  on  the  left,  as  we  passed  along  the  shore, — ^the  numberless  crags 
being  of  many  different  colors — red,  white,  black,  brown,  ^c, — and 
unanged,  or  il^-arranged,  m  such  wild  oonfUsion,  as  to  strike  the  aye 
with  peculiar  effect.    There  was  one  ftpot,  however,  wiiere  avdBr 


nommio  aorasET.  ^m 


dMgn  fleezDed  to  prevail.  The  ledge,  retiriii^,  took  a  aenaleireiilar 
jnre^y  and  the  groups  of  rock  presented  the  appearaace  of  a  ei|ij  ^f 
•lime  buildings.  There,  apparently,  were  the  roofe,  regularly  formed, 
•nd  there  w^e  domes  and  what  seemed  to  be  the  walls  of  the  front 
buildings.;  while  in  the  centre  towered  what  seemed  to  be  an  ImvieQ^e 
palace,  with  a  roof,  cornice,  frieee,  carved  work,  &a  I  was  about  half 
a  mile  distant ;  I  doubt  not  that  upcm  a  near  inspection  the  a|)ee!laole 
would  have  lost  much  of  its  enchantment. 

A  little  further  on,  we  ascended  quite  a  hill  over  a  fii^t  of  natural 
9tep8,  consisting  of  layers  of  rock,  lying  upon  each  other,  each  a^oend- 
ing  (Hie  retiring  so  as  to  form  a  step,  from  three  to  six  feet  wide,-^— as 
regular  at  least  as  the  steps  of  the  great  pyramid.  Having  attaiafti 
the  summit,  we  found  a  similar  descent  upon  the  opposite  side.  Our 
camels  went  up  and  down  without  any  diffic»ilty.  A  little  fitrthar 
along  still,  the  ledge  was  wrought  into  columns  (basaltic),  standing 
upright  side  by  side,  for  several  rods — tb»  work  of  nature ;  and  ^m 
appeared  every  variety  of  grotesque  figures,  sculptured  on  the  tow- 
ering ledge  by  the  hand  of  nature.  There  we  encamped  for  the  nighit 
-  The  next  morning,  after  passing  along  between  the  sea  and  the  wild, 
grotesque  groups  of  lofty  crags  upon  our  left  for  an  hour  or  two,  we 
entered  a  defile,  or,  apparently,  a  river  channel,  which  led  us  directly 
away  from  t^e  sea,  winding  abeut  between  mountain  diffir,  across  the 
peninsula  of  Sinai.  After  proceeding  a  little  way,  there  uprose  before 
us  an  immense  mountain  chain,  mostly  of  a  deep  red,  but  alternated 
with  other  colors,  as  a  coal  black,  yellow,  white,  grey,  lead-color,  &a, 
the  crags  of  different  colors  lifting  themselves  up  side  by  side.  They 
are  mostly  composed  of  soft,  silecious  stone,  but  some  of  them  are 
bard  and  flinty — a  species  of  granite. 

We  followed  this  defile  until  it  came  to  an  end,  and  then  ascended 
the  ledge  (without  dismounting)  by  a  narrow  camel-path,  which  had 
been  partly  c^t  through  the  rocks,  and  pa^tly  passed  between  the 
<deits,  until  we  reached  the  top,  when  we  entered  another  similar 
defile,  which  led  us  winding  about  among  the  ledges  and  crags  tihe 
remainder  of  the  day.  The  way  would  frequently  expand,  however, 
into  an  amphitheatre,  hemmed  in,  apparently,  on  all  sides  by  preoipi- 
lous  heights,  similar  to  those  I  have  already  described. 

Many  of  the  mountain  heights  are  so  crumbled  away  as  to  appear 
Mka  huge  heaps  of  stone  and  sand ;  others  are  like  stone  heaps  tbrowm 
promisciously  together;  and  others  still  like  sand-heaps — the  mass 
having  decomposed  and  flowed  down  upon  the  sides,  giving  it  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  pile  of  sand ;  but  a  large  proportion  of  them  are  stiU 
solid  rock,  the  surface  of  which,  is  generally  in  a  crumbling  state* 


OABAVAN  JOUBNIIT. 


Some  of  them  lie  in  regular  strata,  the  layers  having  every  gnda- 
tion  of  dip  it  is  possible  to  conceive,  some  being  hoxizontal  and  otben 
vertical,  or  nearly  so ;  and  others  still  lying  at  every  intermediate 
angle  of  inclination  between  the  two  extremes.  A  large  poition  of 
them,  however,  consist  of  unstratified  crags,  lifUng  up  their  jagged 
heads  in  wild  confusion.    These  are  granite. 

Sueh  is  the  country  where  "  the  wild  men,  whose  hands  are  againrt 
every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  them," — the  Bedonins,  de- 
scendants of  Ishmael, — roam  in  lordly  but  poor  and  ra^ed  ind^p^id- 
enoe.  We  had  seen  but  here  and  there  one  of  them,  as  we  oame  along  j 
but  here  we  found  an  encampment  of  them,  with  camels,  asses,  sheepi 
te.,  among  the  ledges.  They  are  perfectly  civile  and  even  polite,  in 
their  way ;  and  their  deportment  exhibits  great  independence  of  spirit^ 
as  though  they  felt  themselves  to  be  superior  to  all  the  rest  of  the 
world,  poor  and  ragged  as  they  are.  They  have  regular  features^ 
dark,  almost  black,  complexions,  and  a  keen  black  eye. 

March  Qth,  We  have  now  been  ten  days  in  the  desert;  of  the  first 
eight  1  have  givoi  some  account  For  the  last  three  we  have  been 
directing  our  course  across  the  peninsula  of  Sinai,  which  lies  between 
the  two  arms  of  the  Red  Sea,  Mt  Sinai  being  about  midway  from  the 
one  to  the  other,  and  still  a  day's  journey  distant  I  have  spoken  of 
the  wild  grandeur  and  rugged  magnificence  of  the  rocky  heights  whidi 
uprose  all  around  us  during  our  first  day's  progress  after  leaving  the 
Bed  Sea.  For  the  last  two  days,  we  have  had  the  same  narrow, 
winding  pathway,  walled  in  by  the  same  rugged  heights,  characteiized 
by  an  equal  diversity  of  hues  and  grotesque  forms,  and  yet  so  varied 
as  to  present  some  strange  and  startling  novelty  at  every  turn. 

Last  night  we  encamped  at  a  place  which  has  been  denomubated  Uie 
Bedouin's  paradise.  The  space  between  the  ledges  was  not  much 
wider  than  it  had  previously  been,  but  there  were  springs  of  pure 
water,  from  which  a  stream  issued,  rippling  down  the  vale  for  some 
distance  before  it  disappeared  in  the  sand ;  and  for  three  or  four  miles 
the  narrow,  winding  intervale  was  covered  with  palm  and  tamsrind 
trees,  and  a  fruit  tree  the  Arabs  call  Nebbeck  or  Nubbuck ;  while 
every  few  rods  there  were  bunches  or  beds  of  a  most  beautiful  flower, 
resembling,  in  form,  the  morning-glory,  only  its  corolla  is  open  on 

one  side,  growing  upon  an  upright  stalk.  Its  tints  are  very  delicate 
and  beautiful,  as  well  as  diversified,  some  of  them  being  of  a  deep  red, 
fading  into  purple,  and  bordered  with  bright  yellow.  It  is  very  fi»- 
grant^  as  well  as  beautiful.  I  noticed  some  bunches  of  it  blooming 
right  on  a  steep  ledge,  where  not  even  a  crievice  was  visible  to  the  eye, 
though  doubtless  Were  were  some  interstices  into  which  its  roots 
penetrated. 


B1SD0niN*S  PABABiaB. 


l%e  rocks  here  rise  higher,  and  present,  if  possible,  a  wilder  and 
mder  aspect  than  any  we  had  passed,  lifting  themselves  up  several 
hundred  feet,  almost  perpendicularly,  and  terminating  in  numbertesa 
nigged  peaks,  between  which  a  glimpse  was  had  of  what  seemed  a 
purple  cloud,  such  as  we  sometimes  see  tinged  with  the  rays  of  de- 
parting day.  It  was  not  a  cloud,  but  a  distant  and  still  higher  moun- 
tain range,  bathed  in  the  light  of  the  morning  sun.  Had  it  been  set 
aH  over  with  diamonds,  it  could  not  have  presented  a  more  beautiful 
appearance.  To  add  to  the  enchantment  of  the  scene,  the  birds  were 
warbling  their  sweet  notes  upon  the  tree-tops.  One  voice  gained  all 
my  attention ;  it  seemed  like  that  of  the  robin. 

Hie  fruit  of  the  nubbuck  was  just  getting  ripe,  and  it  is  quite  a  curi- 
osity. It  is  a  stone  fruit,  about  the  size  of  the  red  cherry,  but  shaped 
exactly  like  the  apple,  except  that  the  calyx  is  wanting.  It  is  also 
atriped  with  red,  precisely  like  some  varieties  of  the  apple.  Its  taste 
18  pleasant,  except  that  there  is  a  little  pungency  to  it,  in  kind  like 
tiiat  of  the  common  chokeberry,  though  not  in  degree. 

Well  may  this  be  denominated  "the  Bedouin's  paradise."  Nor 
less,  certainly,  was  it  a  paradise  to  me.  Opening  suddenly  upon  me, 
after  a  nine-days'  journey  through  an  arid,  parched  desert,  beneath  a 
burning  sun,  it  seemed  the  beauty-spot  of  earth.  It  is  generally  re- 
garded as  the  Paran  of  the  Israelites,  mentioned  in  Numbers,  and  the 
"  Mount  Paran  "  of  Habakkuk. 

As  may  readily  be  supposed,  this  favored  spot  is  peopled  thick 
with  Bedouins.  They  are  quite  accessible,  and  apparently  friendly, 
although  1  should  be  reluctant  to  put  much  confidence  in  them. 

Most  of  them  live  in  tents,  just  as  Abraham — from  whom,  through 
Ishmael,  they  are  descended— did  near  four  thousand  years  ago ;  and 
like  him  lead  a  pastoral  life,  migrating  from  place  to  place  with  their 
herds  and  flocks.  And  their  domestic  habits  and  customs  are  much 
the  same.  Their  method  of  baking  their  bread,  for  instance,  is  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  that  practiced  by  their  great  progenitor.  My 
Bedouin  shiek  kneads  his  dough  after  we  stop  at  night,  flattens  it  to 
about  three-quarters  of  an  inch  in  thickness,  rakes  away  the  coals,  lays 
it  upon  the  bare,  heated  ground,  draws  the  embers  and  coals  back 
over  it,  and  in  a  few  minutes  it  is  done,  and  comes  out  clean,  nice  and 
aweet  This  is  the  way  their  bread  is  generally  baked ;  and  it  is 
precisely  the  method,  I  apprehend,  described  by  Abraham,  when  the 
three  angels  made  him  a  visit,  and  "  he  hastened  into  the  tent,  unto 
Sarah,  and  said,  Make  ready  quickly  three  measures  of  fine  meal, 
knead  it,  and  make  cakes  upon  the  hearth."  Living  in  a  tent,  they 
had  no  hearth  but  the  ground ;  and  how,  it  not  in  the  above  manner. 


4«S  CARAVAN  JTOUSHST. 


oould  they  have  baked  oakes  upon  it?  The  Egyptian  nvethod  of 
Mmg  is  soio6what  similar.  The  cake  prep(ff«d  fwr  Elijah  by  the 
aogel,  when  he  was  conunanded  to  go  a  forty-days'  joumey  ixUo  tl|B 
wUdemesa  was  '^  baked  upon  th&ooals." 

We  passed,  to-day,  a  great  many  flocks  of  goats  and  she^*  The  goats 
are  generally  of  a  glossy,  jet  black,  though  some  of  them  have  whiJl^ 
heads  and  tails,  giving  them  quite  a  curious  appearance.  I  notieed 
some  flocks  of  goats  high  up  on  the  steep  ledges,  nibbling  the  scaalfy 
herbage.  How  so  many  flocks  manage  to  live  on  such  dwarfed,  scaft- 
tered  and  miserable  herbage,  is  beyond  my  comprehension,  llie 
sheep  and  goats  are  generally  in  the  same  flock,  and  are  ordinazilj 
attended  by  a  Bedouin  female.  We  have  also  passed  many  camels 
and  asses,  old  and  young.  The  camels  browse  upon  the  thorny  shrubs, 
which  no  other  animal  can  eat. 

These  people  manifest  much  social  attachment  My  sheik  is  hece 
getting  among  his  acquaintances  and  iriends,  and  he  recognizes  everj* 
one  he  meets,  and  the  interviews  all  go  cfl*  with  most  joyiul  salute- 
tioBS,  such  as  kissing,  embracing,  &c.  I  noticed,  a  day  or  two  sinee^ 
that  he  took  from  his  budget  a  snow-white  silk  shawl,  with  a  red  bor- 
der, and  twisted  it  into  a  turban,  and  a  red  morocco  ornamented  bdjt^ 
which  he  buckled  around  him.  I  could  not  think,  at  the  time,  what 
oould  have  so  suddenly  induced  him  to  metamorphose  himself;  hut  I 
soon  perceived  that  he  was  getting  among  those  to  whom  he  waotel 
to  show  ofl*  his  best — and  now  he  has  got  on  his  striped  silk  gown. 
The  translation  of  a  worm  into  a  butterfly  does  not  produce  a  greator 
change  than  has  thus  been  wrought  in  hia  whole  appearance. 

I  might  add,  that  the  Bedouins  are  eminently  patriarchal  in  govern- 
ment— ^the  whole  of  this  immense  desert,  embracing  all  Arabia,  being 
divided  into  petty  tribes,  each  of  which  has  its  shiek,  to  whom  a|i 
under  him  yield  implicit  obedience, — there  being  no  common  head,— r- 
just  as  Abraham,  and  Lot,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob  governed  their  respao- 
tive  dependents.  Secure  from  invasion,  here  they  have^  roamed  in 
proud  independence  for  thousands  of  years ;  and  so  attached  are  they 
to  their  own  native  rooks,  that  they  pride  themselves  as  being  fitvor^d 
ef  heaven  over  all  the  children  of  earth — looking  down  witii  contempt 
upon  those  who  are  doomed  to  get  their  living  by  the  sweat  of  tb^ 
brow ;  the  toil  of  cultivating  the  earth  being,  in  their  estimation,  tjie 
most  degrading  of  employments- 


Moxmr  smAt  m 


nt^m 


CHAFTSB  m. 

I  i»Te  at  length,  after  a  journey  of  eleven  days  through  the  deaeii; 
amved  at  the  spot  which  is,  perhaps,  more  znemorable  in  the  annahi 
of  tiiDe,  tlian  any  other  upon  the  earth's  sttr&oe^-the  spot  upon  whiflh 
the  Jew  and  the  Mahommedan,  no  less  than  the  diiistiaii,  oonoentrate 
thnr  devout  regards— wh^e  the  great  Jehovah,  wrapped  in  a  cloud, 
'^howtd  the  heavens  and  came  down,"  and,  from  the  midst  of  the 
■nioke  '^  as  from  a  furnace,"  and  the  thunderings  and  lightmngs,  and 
earth'^uBkings,  and  ^^the  sound  of  a  trumpet,"  peel  upon  peel, 
^  exceeding  loud,"  proclaimed  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  earth  his  bolf 
law,  the  trembling  multitude  below  sending  back  their  response,  n 
one  man,  '^  All  that  the  Lard  hoik  spoken  we  mil  do^ 

It  is  natural  to  suppose,  that  if  God  were  about  to  make  a  visible 
manifestation  of  himself  to  man,  he  would  select  a  locality,  the  natural 
aspect  of  which  was  such  as  to  impress  the  mind  with  awe,  that  it  might 
be  in  harmony  with  the  occasion,  and  serve  to  enhance  the  sense  cit 
Us  awfiil  majesty.  And  to  this  end,  1  know  not  where  a  fitter  locality 
diski  this  could  have  been  selected. 

Impressed  as  I  have  been  with  the  display  of  wild  grandeur  whiioh 
lias  pres^ted  itself  on  every  hand,  for  the  last  few  days,  nothing  I  have 
'Mfft^  seen,  at  ail  comes  up  to  this ;  and  what  made  the  impression 
SDore  profound,  I  came  upon  it  all  of  a  sudden.  My  conductor  had 
previously  given  me  to  understand  that  we  should  arrive  at  Sinai  in 
4he  evening,  but  about'  noon,  he  suddenly  turned  from  the  vall^ 
down  which  we  were  passing,  into  a  deep  mountain  gorge  upon  the 
left,  and,  after  going  about  half  a  mile  between  the  towerio^  preci- 
pices, there  rose  up  one  in  front  of  us,  which  completely  blocked  up 
the  way,  and  brought  us  to  a  full  stop— and  here,  said  he,  pointing 
io  the  lofty  mountain  rock  on  the  right,  here  is  Mount  Sinai,  and  that 
on  the  left  is  Mount  Horeb.  I  was  awe-struck  with  the  soleoaa 
grandeur  of  the  scene. 

Just  here  there  is  a  Greek  convent  and  church,  with  a  narrow  strip 
af  garden,  say  half  an  acre,  enclosed,  filled  with  almond  trees,  in  fidl 
blossom,  orange  trees  laden  with  fruit,  olive  trees,  apple,  peach,  and 
pear  trees,  grape  vines,  and  here  and  there  a  cypress  lifting  up  its 
green  head  over  all,  and  in  it  are  plats  of  grass,  and  some  beds  of 
vegetables — a  perfect  beauty  spot  upon  the  &ce  of  this  rugged  scene. 

But,  majestic  and  sublime  as  is  the  rocky  scenery  which  here  rises 
v^n  the  vision,  but  little  of  Sinai,  comparatively,  presets  itself  tp 
view  from  this  point.  The  lofty  clifif,  which  rises  to  the  height  of 
iwo  thousand  or  more  feet,  upon  the  right,  is  a  part  of  it,  it  is  true, 
but  it  is  coily  a  stopping  stone,  as  it  were,  to  the  towering  heif^ 


iM  GARATAN  JOURNEY. 


beyond,  pointed  out  as  the  scene  of  the  great  event.  It  is  said  to  be 
a  mile  and  a  half  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  as  measured  by  a  German 
engineer,  and  about  a  mile  in  perpendicular  height,  above  the  spoi 
where  I  am  writing.  To-day  I  have  toiled  up  to  its  summit,  where  m 
eoene  was  opened  upon  my  view  whidi  no  pen  can  describe.  Bat  I  - 
will  first  speak  of  the  assent  It  is  by  steps  winding  here  and  tfaerei 
not  regular,  but  still  steps,  arranged  in  quite  comfortable  order,  for 
tile  most  part  Upon  these  I  aiscended,  going  up,  up,  up,  until  I  arrived 
at  the  height  of  all  that  could  be  seen  from  below,  when  other  equal 
heights  uprose  beyond,  and  the  summit  of  these  attained,  there 
towered  still  another,  apparently  to  an  equal  height,  upon  whose  sum- 
mit I  at  last  planted  my  feet,  after  an  ascent  of  an  hour  and  a  hal^  so 
that  mountain  b  here  literally  piled  upon  mountun,  and  mountain 
upon  mountain,  and  the  topmost  one  is  designated,  by  pretty  general 
consent,  as  the  one  on  which  Jehovah  appeared  in  his  glory.  Often, 
in  ascending,  we  would  come  to  a  place  where  the  ledge  would  seenx 
to  rise  perpendicular  before  us,  apparently  defying  all  effort  to  sur- 
mount it,  but  as  we  advanced,  the  steps  would  wind  around,  in  a 
sig-zag  course,  so  as  to  overcome  the  whole  difficulty.  At  frequent 
intervals,  springs  of  water,  dear  as  crystal,  and  cold  almost  as  an  icide^ 
gurgled  up  between  the  rocks,  and  often  the  water  stood  in  banns  of 
solid  rock,  from  which  I  several  times  refreshed  myself.  I  never 
drank  sweeter,  or  colder  spring  water.  And  these  springs  were  found 
near  the  summit  of  the  highest  peak,  for  ^hile  we  were  there  a  boy 
descended  a  little  way  from  the  top,  and  dipped  a  pail  of  as  good 
water  as  one  ever  need  to  drink.  In  the  whole  ascent  I  calculated  that 
there  were  from  two  to  three  niiles  of  steps. 

From  the  summit  one  of  the  wildest  and  grandest  spectades 
presented  itself,  which  it  is  possible  for  the  imagination  to  conceive. 
Far  below,  tiiicket  after  thicket  of  rugged  mountain  peaks,  heaps 
upon  heaps  of  partially  decomposed  mountain  rock,  and  range  after 
after  range  of  continuous  and  towering  ledge,  separated  by  an  oocar- 
sional  intervale,  as  barren  almost  as  themselves,  filled  up  the  entire 
drcle  of  vision,  to  the  utmost  limits  of  the  horizon  in  every  direction. 

Such  is  the  terrible  subiimity  of  the  scene  which  presents  itself 
from  the  top  of  6ebd  Musa  (the  Mount  of  Moses).  Among  the 
mountains  of  lesser  magnitude,  which  rise  beneath  the  eye,  immedi* 
ately  around  Gebel  Musa,  is  Gebel  Sussafre,  and  to  this  Prof.  Robin- 
son, contrary  to  the  opinion  of  the  most  learned  and  observing 
travelers,  has  assigned  the  honor  of  having  been  the  chosen  Mount  of 
God ;  and  as  the  reason  of  this  preference  he  mentions  the  want  of  mA 
dent  space  about  Gebel  Musa  for  such  a  multitude  to  stand.    But  if 


ELIJAHS  GAVE,  BTJBNINa  BUSH. 


he  hod  examined  the  ground  on  the  other  side  of  it  (which  few  travdr 
era  take  the  pains  to  visit),  it  seems  to  me  that  he  would  have  seen 
that  tiiis  objection  was  entirely  obviated.  I  mentioned  Prof.  R.V 
objection  to  the  minister  of  the  Greek  church  here,  and  he  said  that 
they  might  have  stood  on  the  spot  I  have  referred  to,  and  stood  on 
the  other  side,  and  all  around,  both  Gebel  Musa  and  Gebel  gussafrei 
and  still  been  in  full  view  of  the  cloud  and  the  smoke  upon  the  top 
of  Sinai. 

The  rock  of  which  Sinai  is  composed,  I  should  judge  to  be  a  hard 
sandstone,  much  of  it  with  mica  and  quartz  crystals  enough  inter- 
mixed  to  make  it  glow  with  dazzling  brilliancy  from  the  reflections  of 
the  sun's  rays.  Much  of  it  is  stratified,  the  layers  being  nearly 
vertical.     Of  course  it  cannot  be  granite,  as  some  have  alleged. 

When  ascending  Gebel  Musa,  I  was  shown  a  cave,  about  half  way 
Up,  in  which  'Elijah  is  said  to  have  hid  himself,  and  over  which  a  rude 
stone  building  has  been  erected,  called  "  the  Chapel  of  Elijah."  There 
is  little  probability  that  that  was  the  memorable  spot,  yet  we  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  it  was  in  this  immediate  neighborhood,  for 
we  read  in  the  19th  Chapter  of  the  1st  Book  of  Kings,  that  after 
refreshing  himself  with  the  cake  and  cruse  of  water,  which  the  angel 
provided  for  him,  when  fleeing  from  the  wrath  of  Jehovah,  "  he  arose 
and  went  in  the  strength  of  that  meat  forty  days  and  forty  nights, 
unto  Horeb,  the  Mount  of  God,"  and ^ that  "he  came  thither  unto  a 
a  cave,  and  lodged  there."^  It  would  certainly  have  been  very  pleas- 
ant to  believe  that  thai  was  the  precise  spot  where  the  Lord  passed 
before  him  in  the  whirlwind,  in  the  earthquake,  and  in  the  fire,  and 
was  neither  in  the  one  nor  the  other,  though  the  mountain  rocks  were 
cloven  asunder,  but  in  the  still  small  voice  that  followed,  at  the  sound 
of  which  the  man  of  God  wrapped  his  face  in  a  mantle,  recognizing  it 
as  the  voice  of  Jehovah. 

In  the  church  attached  to  the  convent,  they  have  a  small  chapel, 
which  they  denominate  the  chapel  of  "the  buniing  bush,"  where 
candles  are  kept  always  burning,  on  what  is  represented  to  be  the 
precise  spot  where  God  called  to  Moses  out  of  the  midst  of  a  flame 
of  fire  which  burned  the  bush,  and  yet  consumed  it  not»  and  com- 
manded him  to  take  the  shoe?  from  off  his  feet  Just  as  we  arrived 
at  the  door  of  the  chapel,  the  priest  took  off  his  shoes,  and  requested 
me  to  do  the  same,  when  he  conducted  me  into  the  holy  place  where 
lamps  are  kept  continually  burning.  Here,  again,  although  we  are 
expressly  told  that  this  solemn  transaction  took  place  at  the  Mount 
of  God,  even  Horeb,  I  could  not  persuade  myself  into  the  belief  that 
this  was  the  exact  spot^  but  I  could  not  help  feeling  an  awe  upon 


a*  OAKAVAK  jotmtmr. 


mj  spirit,  in  view  of  the  fact,  that,  in  all  probability,  it  was  not  ficr 
Adtant.  I  confess  that  the  good  infhiences  \rbich  were  thus  at  work 
upon  me  were  geatly  weakened,  and  well  nigh  destroyed,  when  he 
took  me  around  upon  the  outside  of  the  chapel,  and  showed  me  the 
bush  itself,  whicli,  he  said,  had  been  transplanted  from  the  spot^  in 
the  cliapel,  where  the  lights  were  burning.  It  is  a  species  of  briar, 
and  is  but  a  few  inches  high,  but  he  assured  me  that  there  was  a  large 
root  in  the  ground,  and  tliat  its  vitality  had  been  preserved 

The  church  was  built  by  Justinian,  when  the  convent  was  establish- 
ed, more  than  thirteen  hundred  years  ago,  and  is  still  in  a  good  state 
of  preservation,  the  inside  being  furnished  in  good  taste,  and  with 
oonsiderable  elegance.  It  is  profusely  ornamented'  with  pictures. 
I  observed  one  of  the  inmates  of  the  convent,  passing  from  one  to  the 
other,  as  they  hang,  side  by  side,  around  the  wall,  kissing  each  one 
as  he  went  along,  and  performing  various  acts  of  reverence. 

Another  object  of  f^reat  interest  i^  pointed  out  here,  viz. :  **  the 
rock  in  Horeb,"  which  Moses  smote  with  a  rod,  upon  which  the  waters 
gushed  forth.  And,  in  tihis  case,  too,  I  found  it  difficult  to  bring 
myself  under  the  full  effect  of  a  realizing  belief. 

Every  morning,  before  light,  the  beU  rang  for  prayers,  which  were 
said  in  Greek.  I  found  but  three  or  four  in  attendance  besides  the 
officiating  priest.  So  charged  with  incense  was  the  chapel,  as  almost 
to  stifle  one  with  its  cloud  of  perfume,  which  penetrated  the  olfacto- 
ries with  most  ravishing  sensations.  It  «eemed  as  though  all  l^e 
odors  of  this  l&nd  of  spices  had  been  commingled.  Frankincense  is 
indigenous  in  Arabia.     Tlie  perfume  was  imparted  by  sprinkling. 

Since  I  have  been  at  Sinai  the  weather  has  suddenly  turned  cold, 
and  an  inch  or  two  of  snow  has  &llen,  the  first  I  have  seen  since  leav- 
ing America — quite  a  refresliing  sight. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

After  a  sojourn  of  four  dftys  at  Mount  Sinai,  during  which  I  was 
aoeommodated  with  comfortable  lodgings  in  the  convent^  at  its  base^ 
1  took  my  departure  for  Akaba,  our  next  stopping  place,  five  days 
distant,  and  located  at  the  head  of  the  eastern  arm  of  the  Bed  Sea. 

For  the  gseater  part  of  the  first  day,  the  summit  of  Mount  Sinai 
was  in  ibll  view,  towering  high  above  all  the  surrounding  mountain)^ 
irith  the  exception  of  one,  its  twiti  brother.  Mount  St.  Katharines^ 
wUch  is  said  to  be  something  higher,  although  it  looks  to  be  of  aboul 
the  same  height.    Between  us  and  them  were  several  ranges,  rising 


LIFK  IK  TffB  ymnWt.  611 

*^——       I         -  !■■ ■■'Ill      11—^^—  I  ■  II        ■  I 

^^i^—  ■    -  .     I  I  .        ■  •  m  p— » 

one  above  another,  Sinai  looking  down  upon  them  all.  Beyond  theif 
lofty  peaks  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  the  dear  blue  sky,  and  as  they 
^Htored  in  the  bright  beams  of  the  descending  sun,  they  seemed  like 
fleeey,  half  transparent  clouds,  floating  in  the  horizon.  Often  did  I 
torn  to  gaze  upon  their  magic  forms,  until  we  entered  a  mountain 
gorge,  which  hid  them  from  our  view,  Sinai  seemed  radiant  with  a 
halo  of  glory.    That  parting  view  was  worth  all  that  I  had  before  se^u 

Comfortable  as  my  lodgings  were  in  the  convent,  they  were  no 
more  so  than  I  find  in  my  own  tent.  On  the  whole,  life  in  the  desert^ 
thus  &r,  has  been  very  pleasant,  and  very  comfortable.  I  read  the 
greater  part  of  the  day  as  I  go  rocking  along  upon  my  camel,  with 
nearly  as  little  annoyance  as  though  I  were  sitting  in  a  parlor.  As 
a  guide  to  objects  of  interest  upon  this  tour,  I  have  been  reading  the 
historical  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  have  read  them  all  through 
upon  my  camel,  and  commenced  the  Evangelists.  Suffice  it  to  say^ 
that  I  have  never  read  them  with  so  much  interest  before,  so  entirely 
do  the  descriptions  and  allusions  they  contain,  harmonize  with  objeete 
which  are  constantly  felling  under  my  observation. 

Having  thus  passed  away  the  day,  I  am  generally  more  or  len 
flitigued  at  night-— especially  if  the  day  be  hot.  The  first  thing  then 
is,  after  having  my  tent  pitched,  to  refresh  myself  with  a  good  cup  of 
coffee,  and  this  puts  me  in  tune  for  writing,  which  occupies  my  atten* 
tion  till  bed  time.  At  peep  of  day,  I  call  up  my  cook,  refresh  myself 
with  another  cup  of  coffee,  and  resume  my  scribbling.  And  sure  I 
am,  that  I  never  enjoyed  a  good  cup  of  coffee  betterf  any  where,  or 
had  a  better  relish  for  food,  or  slept  more  sweetly,  or  passed  away 
the  time  more  pleasantly,  than  I  do  in  my  tent,  upon  this  lonely  desert. 

But  how  do  you  manage  to  get  up  a  fire  for  cooking— do  you  ask  ? 
Easily  enough.  We  have  the  best  of  wood,  and  plenty  of  it — ^never 
at  a  loss.  The  dwarfed  shrubs,  that  grow  here  and  there,  have  consid- 
erable body  to  them,  including  the  root,  and  many  of  them  are  dead 
and  dry,  and  bum  readily.    They  are  easily  jerked  out. 

I  am  amazed  to  find  so  much  variety,  and  so  many  novelties  oon- 
Btantly  developing  themselves  in  this  desert^  where  I  expected  to  fiol 
a  wearisome,  everlasting  monotony.  Since  leaving  Mount  Sinai,  th# 
•eenery  has  undergone  an  entire  change  of  feature.  It  is  composed  of 
mountain  rock  and  mountain  gorges,  as  before,  but  with  an  entiM 
change  of  aspect.  Instead  of  the  precipitous  mountain  ledges,  sur* 
mounted  by  jagged  peaks,  we  had  yesterday  smooth,  conical  mouil* 
tains  of  rock,  rising  one  above  another,  like  immense  hills,  on  either 
side  of  the  winding  defile.  Some  of  them  looked  like  mountains  of 
aolid  iron,  some  like  bronze,  some  like  copper,  and  some  like  slate. 


§f$  CABAVAN  JOURNEY. 


But,  whatever  be  the  color  of  the  rocks,  thej  are  generally  siledoui, 
though  not  exclusively  so. 

To-day  there  has*  been  two  or  three  changes  in  the  general  featiireo 
of  this  wonderful  country.  For  a  while  this  morning,  it  continued  as 
it  was  yesterday,  then  commenced  a  succession  of  immense  stone 
heaps,  as  though  millions  of  men  had  been  employed  to  pile  them  up, 
mountain  high,  out  of  the  way,  and  sometimes  there  were  ranges  of 
them  extending  a  long  distance.  There  were  also  many  heights,  so 
&r  decomposed,  that  the  surface  exhibited  little  but  running  sand. 

About  noon  another  marked  change  was  observable.  Instead  of  the 
iron,  bronze,  copper,  and  slate  colored  rocks,  we  now  had  a  light  and 
soft  sandstone,  lying  in  horizontal  layers,  rising  into  ledges,  like  walla, 
and  running  in  broken  ranges  here  and  there,  sometimes  one  way,  and 
sometimes  another.  The  intervale,  too,  would  now  frequently  expand 
into  a  plain,  bounded  by  those  walls,  surmounted  here  and  there  with 
what  seemed  an  immense  circular  watch-tower,  with  a  dome,  there 
being  a  regular  groove  between  each  layer  as  they  rose.  At  a  little 
distance  they  had  quite  the  appearance  of  works  of  art  In  one 
instance,  there  was  quite  a  cluster  of  them,  and  they  had  quite  a  citified 
appearance.  The  intervale  began  now  to  be  covered  with  white  and 
drifting  sands,  and  in  some  places  so  deep  as  to  make  the  traveling 
very  hard  for  the  camels.  The  plains  were  not  only  boiroded  by 
these  ledges,  but  immense  masses  of  rock  rose  up  here  and  there 
upon  them,  and,  in  one  instance,  a  pyramid  of  solid  rock,  wiUi  steps, 
which  I  gazed4upon  with  admiration,  and  which  I  was  about  to  pro- 
nounce equal  to  the  great  pyramid  of  Gizeh,  after  having  seen  three 
sides  of  it  only,  but  the  fourth  side  spoiled  it  all. 

Just  before  night,  another  change  occurred.  The  rock  was  sttU  a 
Bofl  kind  of  sandstone,  but  no  longer  exhibited  horizontal  layers.  It 
present-ed  a  smooth  and  almost  polished  surface,  but  perforated 
throughout,  the  outside  exhibiting  a  mere  shell,  full  of  holes,  often 
appearing  like  a  portico,  and  one  story  rising  above  another.  What 
could  have  given  it  such  a  structure,  I  know  not,  unless  the  rock  was 
•riginally  composed  of  intermingled  veins  of  softer  and  harder  stone, 
alternating  with  each  other,  and  the  softer  decomposed  and  ran  out. 

I  observed  one  rock,  tjrenty  or  thirty  feet  long,  predsdy  in  the 
form  of  a  large  turtle,  the  upper  and  under  shells  being  perfect,  not 
only  as  to  form,  but  color.  The  head,  too,  was  there.  It  was  an 
exact  likeness  on  the  side  upon  which  I  passed.  I  did  not  go  on  the 
other  side,  lest  it  should  be  spoiled  as  the  pyramid  was. 


JTOBOPSAN  RAMBLBS.  tnk 


JOURNAL  LEAVES  OF  EUROPEAN  RAMBLE. 


IT  D.  BROnXB  ODinSLD. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  cflfect  of  these  exercises  upon  the  passengers  was  good,  solem- 
nizing their  minds,*apparently,  during  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  restrain- 
ing them  from  boisterous  merriment,  and  possibly  from  games  which 
might  otherwise  have  been  indulged  in — for  games  we  have  had  every 
night  since  we  sailed,  and  gambling  also.  It  is  strange,  too,  that  these 
gamblers  occasionally  fancy  themselves  quite  moral  in  the  restraints 
they  impose  upon  themselves  while  practicing  this  most  degrading 
vice.  On  last  (Saturday)  night  one  of  the  old  gnarled  codgers  of  the 
cabin,  with  a  braid  Scottish  tongue^  an  expert  player,  had  won  some 
twenty  sovereigns  during  the  evening,  and  seemed  fairly  entered 
upon  the  excitement  incident  to  the  game,  when  he  found  it  growing 
late.  Ho  had  just  finished  a  hand,  when,  pulling  out  his  watch,  he  re- 
marked :  "  It  lacks  hut  fifteen  minutes  of  the  Sabbath,  and  I  never  play 
on  that  day^^ — so,  pocketing  his  winnings,  he  bade  his  companions 
"  good  night,"  and  virtuously  trudged  off  to  bed.  The  moral  distinc* 
tion  thus  made  by  the  Scotchman,  between  violating  the  sacred  hours 
of  the  Sabbath,  and  pocketing  his  neighbor's  money,  without  render- 
ing  him  an  equivalent,  during  the  three  or  four  preceding  hours,  was 
wholly  beyond  my  comprehension.  Wretched  and  depraved  is  the 
mind,  or  soon  must  become  so,  that  consents  to  take  his  friend's  prop- 
erty, simply  because  a  red  or  a  black  card  chanced  to  turn  up  first  to 
bis  hand,  and  under  the  rules  of  the  game  conferred  upon  him  this 
right.  Yet  in  almost  every  land,  among  almost  every  people,  and 
down  through  all  classes  and  ranks,  is  this  accursed  vice  of  self-legal- 
ized robbery  practiced.  It  is  as  old  as  the  Egyptians,  and  universal  as 
the  avariciousness  of  the  human  heart. 

On  Saturday  evening  a  notice  appeared  on  the  cabin  door,  announc- 
ing the  forthcoming  number  of  a  newspaper,  to  be  issued  on  the  follow- 
ing Monday  at  two  o'clock,  and  soliciting  contributions  tt)  its  columns. 
Hearing  a  general  chat  among  the  passengers,  and  many  expressing 
an  intention  to  patronize  the  undertaking,  I  condaded  not  to  be  found 
remisSy  and  accordingly  handed  in  to  the  purser  my  contribution  with 
VOL.  I,  HO  xi.--^3. 


1 


MP  BimOFlAll  lUIGttBB. 


the  rest  As  all  personalities  of  every  sort  were  expressly  prohibited 
I  rentured  onlj  on  a  little  National  personalitj,  so  to  speak,  our  pa8»- 
tigers  being  largely  composed  of  English,  French,  and  AmericBiiB. 
The  verses  are  reproduced  here,  not  for  any  bnoied  merit,  but  simplj 
because  they  ftfe  fotod  in  the  JoarpBi^  afiufthfui  t^MoHptof  whidi 
these  "  leaves ''  purport  to  be.  Our  French  and  English  friends  were 
disappointed  and  out  of  temper  over  the  sews  from  Sebastopd,  and 
the  verses  were  designed  to  encourage  them  somewhat  in  their  des- 
pondency.   The  name  given  them  W[%b, 

A  SfBAMBB  LTRIO. 

•r  A  IDM  W  OObWHA. 


Whan  flM»m  her  deok  our  g»UiuA  ship 

Had  OAst  her  harbor  chain, 
The  tattors  lei  the  imrnlogi  «Upt 

And  loud  ttuj  roared  anala. 

•     II. 

Upon  Uke  wharf  were  tearflil  ejcsi 
That  watched  us  dowa  the  bay, 

And  from  our  deok  re^K>iialre  rigke 
Betamiog  eooi^t  the  qvaj  ;— 

And  from  a  hundred  llpe  were  heard, 
G0d  »p4«4  yaw  m»  fonr  ttoy/** 

III. 

White  kerchieft  wared  full  long  and  hl|}», 

And  hl^  the  hate  aroee, 
To  aialeh  sweet  bleialngi  from  the  4v 

for  each  sad  heart's  repofe.  j 

vr. 

Jot  OTenpread  Mew  ■Dglaiid*k  lasdt 
And  roared  ter  down  the  ba^t 

And  flags  were  itreamlng  on  the  strand. 
In  Olorj^  glad  arrajr: 


T. 

It  was  the  NaUon's  day  of  Uflhi 

Her  JojooB  Jubilee, 
When  high.  In  faoe  of  all  Mm  earth, 

Her  flag  reae  o'er  the  JVm: 

VI. 

What  tho'  old  Sngland*s  minMry 
Oypoaed  them  lA  the  a|M» 

Tha  Britons  all,  on  land  and  eea»~ 
The  BrU<m$  thought  them  rif^t 


A  mEAMBBL  LTBia  ^m 


r 


And  Bnrket  vlth  mighty  voice  and  pen, 
Load  tbundered  o*er  tbe  irave ; 

He  cheered  the  **  rebel "  spirits  then, 
And  made  their  hearts  more  brave. 

VIII. 

Then  why  should  fttir  Ob1nmbla*s  sons 

With  Britons  be  at  war  ? 
miej  always  had  the  Briton*s  love, 

Tho'  Bote*  bettowed  the  scar. 

IX. 

And  novvwfcai  rsnnd  aebasitsfsl 

Her  gallant  soldiers  sleep, 
Columbia's  heart  shall  monrn  their  fall. 
Her  eyes  shall  o'er  them  weep. 


With  Britons  riding  at  onr  side, 

We'U  wait  the  battle  caU, 
That  soon  we  hope  may  cheer  their  prtde 

And  sink  Sabasiopol ! 

XT. 

Then  Vim  la  rtine  !  we  cry  aasw. 
Load  as  our  Asia's  guns, 

metorla  Is  onr  mother  toe- 
Are  we  not  Aagi«ad's.  sons  f 

XII. 
And  Flv0  la  France  t  La  phu  bilU  Frane$  ! 

Bier  gallant  ally  now. 
Land  of  the  grape,  the  song,  the  dance: 

That's  glory  on  her  brow ! 

XIIl. 

Well  has  she  stormed  that  rugged  hill, 

sun  climbing  high,  and  higher. 
And  prove  that  her  old  soldisav  itill 

Fear  not  a  hostile  ilre. 

xnr. 

To  her  gay  sons  that  bei«  are  met. 

We  give  warm  words  of  cheer. 
And  in  the  name  of  Z^dystts, 

We  speed  her  flag  and  spear. 

XV. 
Then,  as  old  Britain's  glorious  flag 

Blends  with  the  flag  of  France, 
And  from  that  distant  hostile  crag 

War's  lightnings  still  shall  glance. 

We*ll  bless  their  banners  as- they  float 

CTer  hostile  plain  or  sea. 
And  pray  qnr  God  thai  spon  Ihetar  feldt 

May  blase  with  victory. 

^George  III ,  Minister  of  State. 


016  RUROPBAN  RAICBLBS. 


XVII. 

TheD  hereof  to  all  <mr  Natloni  thre** 

Columbia,  Britain,  France, 
United,  all  the  world  must  flee 

Before  their  angry  glance. 

XVIH. 

And  may  these  mighty  banners  three— 

The  mightiest  of  the  earth- 
Long  dwell  In  aveet "  fratemltle,** 

Where  glory  has  her  birth ; 
And  oh  I  may  we  forever  see 

Xaehjktff  wmMmsd  ms  kmd  amdtmt 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

Julff  9/A,  1855. — During  the  night,  or  rather  about  fourVdook 
(Monday)  morning,  the  ship^s  thermometer  suddenly  fell  from  52  to 
44*^,  and  presently  a  frigid  looking  craft,  in  the  form  of  an  icebergs 
was  discovered  a  few  miles  from  our  vessel,  the  fog  having  been  db* 
pelled  by  the  near  approach  of  her  icy  breath.  It  was  described  to 
mc  by  the  officer,  who  was  on  deck  at  the  time,  as  quite  long  and 
high,  and  apparently  stationary,  though  doubtless  floating  southward 
with  the  slow  currents  of  the  ocean.  The  steamer  had  travelled  quite 
slowly  through  the  night,  for  fear  of  encountering  some  such  ugly  vic- 
tor, manned  (as  an  Hibernian  might  say)  with  polar  bears,  and  com- 
manded by  one  or  more  grave  and  venerable  looking  old  seals.  We 
are  now,  however,  out  of  the  current  in  which  they  travel,  and  our 
captain  says  we  shall  see  no  more  of  them,  which,  strange  to  say,  in- 
stead of  being  a  matter  of  universal  congratulation,  is^  with  certain 
carious  passengers,  who  were  disappointed  in  not  seeing  this  floating 
terror  from  the  land  of  ice  and  snow,  quite  a  source  of  r^ret.  Thus 
ignorant  and  wilful  is  man ;  instead  of  being  grateful  for  dangers  es- 
caped, he  covets  their  continuance,  merely  that  his  curiosity  may  be 
for  a  moment  gratified. 

This  morning,  as  I  lay  in  the  smoking  saloon,  or  "  monkey  "  as  it  is 
styled  among  the  passengers,  one  of  the  firemen  thrust  up  his  head 
blackened  with  coal  dust,  and  hung  by  his  arms  on  the  iron  frames 
over  the  scene  of  his  subterranean  labors,  inhaling,  with  evident  zest, 
the  pure  air  of  our  upp3r  regions.  He  looked  like  a  good  natured 
fellow,  and  I  asked  the  privilege  of  going  below.  It  was  granted,  and 
down  I  went  into  the  deep  dark  hole,  and  stood  directly  over  our 
keel,  in  front  of  the  roaring  fires,  three  on  either  side,  and  io  an 
atmosphere  apparently  designed  for  speedy  sufibcation.    I  had  beea 


THE  FORNTAOBSi— .KVENINO  AMUSEMENTa  51t 


down  8  day  or  two  before  amid  the  engines,  and  that  seemed  low 
enough  at  the  time,  but  this  was  a  still  lower  deep,  and  a  fearful  plaoe 
in  which  to  eross  the  tumbling  ocean.  ^  How  much  coal  do  you  bum 
down  herel"  I  asked  of  a  Titanic  chap  who  was  opening  and  closing 
the  great  furnace  doors,  and  feeding  these  voracious  fires.  ^^  Five  tons 
a  watch,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "  How  do  you  endure  this  overpowering 
heat  T^  "  Sweat  like  oxen,  and  drink  all  the  porter  we  want."  I  then 
passed  between  the  two  great  boilers,  along  a  dark  and  narrow  passage 
way,  scarcely  wide  enough  to  admit  a  full  sized  Englishman,  and  came 
out  at  the  two  boilers  on  the  other  side,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  en* 
gine,  which  thundered  away  on  all  sides  of  me  with  most  terrific  power. 
So  great  was  the  scale  on  which  these  forces  were  generated  and  put 
into  active  operation,  that  they  appeared  more  like  the  products  of 
Nature  than  of  man's  devising.  But  here  was  the  great  secret  solved 
and  splendidly  illustrated — ^the  secret  which  had  lain  hid  so  long  from 
the  philosopher,  but  which  the  magic  hand  of  Fulton  at  last  evoked 
and  commanded  into  subservient  action. 

« 

After  dinner,  the  newspaper  was  publicly  read,  and  many  good  and 
lively  things  were  produced.    Hie  poem  received  all  and  more  &vor 

than  it  merited,  except  from  J ^  who  was  a  fierce  Russia  man,  and 

an  earnest  hater  of  the  English.  The  tone  and  spirit  of  it  was  wholly 
oontrary  to  what  he  wished  enacted  before  Sebastopol,  and  the  lyrio 
therefore  found  no  favor  in  his  eyes.  In  the  evening  the  fog  was  still 
■o  heavy  that  no  one  could  comfortably  be  on  deck,  and  consequently 

the  passengers  aH  crowded  ii^  the  cabin.     W and  myself  spent 

a  couple  of  hours  over  the  chess  board.  The  pieces  are  all  furnished 
with  a  peg  or  stick  in  the  bottom,  which  is  inserted  in  a  corresponding 
hole  in  the  board,  and  so  they  are  kept  in  their  places  through  the 
roughest  weather. 

Cards  appeared  on  almost  all  the  tables,  and  excepting  one  where 
some  rhyming  games  were  practiced,  all  presented  scenes  of  chance 
amusement,  upon  which  money  depended,  and  among  the  gamblers 
were  the  French  ladies,  vivacious  and  cheerful,  keen  and  graceful,  but 
ready  to  "  rake  down  their  pile  "  with  the  rest. 

July  10 tk, — At  last  we  are  permitted  to  see  old  Ocean  in  his  gran- 
deur. With  last  night's  darkness  the  fog  disappeared,  and  this  mom« 
ing  his  countenance  is  unvailed  and  his  glory  revealed.  On  reaching 
the  deck  and  taking  my  first  view  over  his  broad  domain,  I  was  struck 
with  the  singular  beauty  of  that  line  in  Sophocles,  where  Antigone,  I 
believe  it  is,  speaks  of 

*•  TIm  ttwaawd  Mllow*  thst  dimb  Um  dawn." 


01S  DtrltOPEAJT  RAMBLES^ 


Far  in  advaQce  of  us  the  billows  seem^  literally  to  dimb  toirard 
the  sky  and  wash  its  bright  blue  feoe,  while  in  our  rear  they  sIopeA 
upward  toward  the  horizon,  in  the  same  manner.  Ilie  OoeaA  itself 
If  as  splendid  in  its  gay  rejoicings  over  the  departed  fog,  and  seemed  ti^ 
olap  its  very  hands  with  gladness.  The  'great  waves  tliat  swelled  in 
our  rear,  now  crowning  themselves  with  silver,  and  anon  showing  the 
deep  green  and  blue  of  Niagara*8  loveliness,  seemed  determined  to 
overtake  us  and  roll  themselves  upon  our  deck.  As  our  boat  dea> 
oeoded  into  the  watery  valley,  we  seemed  to  be  on  a  level  witli  the 
boiling  surge,  but  before  it  could,  sweep  up  to  us  we  were  again  higb- 
mounted,  and  could  drop  our  laugh  on  the  disappointed  billows  below. 
Every  sail  is  set ;  the  engine's  iron  arms  are  all  busy,  and  on  rid'es  our 
noble  ship,  rolling  from  side  to  side  and  plunging  over  and  down  the 
waves,  as  the  wind  and  waters  Ylrive  her.  One  moment  she  will  be  so 
low  on  the  larboard  that  the  wheel  on  the  starboard  side  paddles  in  the 
air,  and  the  next  it  is  plunged  to  its  axle  in  the  sea.  Although  apparoitiy 
sailing  fast  and  free,  wc  do  not  make  tlie  speed  we  had  hoped  for ;  ike 
log  just  now  cast  gives  us  but  twelve  and  a  half  miles  an  hour,  when 
this  morning  we  were  making  fourteen. 

I  wonder  not  that  the  sailor  rejoices  in  the  ocean,  for  never  have  I 
beheld  anything  so  exhilirating,  so  wildly  exciting,  as  this  stormy  pres- 
ence of  the  sea.  Each  wave,  as  it  it  rolls  foaming  on  its  way,  seems 
winged  with  gladness,  and  woos  you  widi  smiles  to  a  seat  upon  its 
breast.  A  mysterious  and  multitudinous  power,  so  to  speak,  seems 
busy  on  all  sides  of  you,  stirring  the  great  waters  to  their  lowest 
depths.  Tlie  voice,  too,  of  the  old  monardi  is  harmonious  and  grand, 
breathing  forth  strains  of  triumph  and  of  praise.  Reader,  you  may 
have  looked  upon  him  from  the  beach,  as  he  tumbled  his  peaceftd  wave 
to  the  shore,  or  rode  upon  his  waters  through  the  stormy  Sound,"  but 
to  see  him  as  he  is,  and  hear  his  heaven-bom  symphony,  aooompanied 
with  the  roaring  winds,  you  must  put  yourself  upon  his  heaving 
breast,  midway  between  the  two  continents,  see  him  lift  his  silvered 
<yest  and  hear  him  chant  his  morning  song.  It  is  a  song  of  liberty^ 
untrammelled  by  human  law,  and  made  truly  harmonious  by  its  sweet 
concord  with  the  laws  of  God. 

How  I  wondered,  as  I  saw  the  sad-hearted  Cubans  and  the  expatria* 
ted  Frenchmen  among  our  passengers,  looking  out  upon  this  freedom 
broad  cast  over  the  ocean,  if  they  did  not  long  to  hear  that  song  asr 
oending  from  the  multitude  of  voices  that  now  mourn  upon  their  na- 
tive land,  giving  free  expression  to  the  noble  aspirations  of  free  and 
freedom-loving  hearts.  No  one  can  bathe  his  spirit  in  the  strength  of 
these  stormy  waves,  without  feeling  his  heart  made  stronger  in  its 


^^T-i^»<^n.      ■!    I       II  I-—  I  J.     ■  1.1  ■»■      I     II  ^1  I  -  — -  _         I        i^p»— — -.      II    ■      -mmmmmmmm 

^—i ^^^l^—Mi ^—W — — ^W— ^— ^'^^■^^■"— -I  I  ■-' 1'  ^— ^^— ^^^i^l  ^^.u,^ 

4^o6ioii  to  f^edokn  and  the  datiei  flhe  imposei.  No  one  can  aotept 
4bd  teafthiingH  of  llie  eyer-mBrmuring  sea  without  fbding  bis  heart 
M^tod  yet  hi^er  and  nearer  to  Him  who  sitteth  King  upon  the  floods 
kni  who  tumeth  the  hearts  of  men  as  the  rivers  of  waters  are  turned 
•  But  lo !  what  are  these  upon  the  surge  ?  A  fleet  of  sea-monsterft 
aae  in  hot  pursuit  of  us.  They  ride  high  upon  the  highest  wave,  lea]^ 
from  its  orestw  and  glvre  upon  us  with  their  inexpressive  eyes.  What 
are  they,  and  what  do  they  seek  ?  Why  do  they  chase  us  in  this  hour 
4E^f  the  coming  storm  1 — for  storm  we  shall  have  says  the  captain,  aiAd 
ior  three  long  days,  unless  the  wind  goes  down  with  the  sun.  Art 
ihey  harbingers  of  ill,  and  do  they  hope  to  feed  upon  our  flesh,  or  ai^ 
ihey  mere  attendants  upon  our  statdy  ship,  rendering  sea-homage  t^ 
)ier  as  she  sweeps  away  from  their  pursuit,  though  swift  as  the  pursuing 
.^wavea  A  passenger,  on  first  seeing  their  shining  bodies,  called  them 
.^Vyoung  whales,"  another  ^'  dolphins,"  another  "  seals ;"  but,  says  an  <M 
0eA  captain,  laughing  at  the  wisdom  of  his  fellow  passengers,  "  they  are 
bnly  porpoisea,  who  follow  us  for  the  garbage  that  falls  from  the 
guards."  Then  let  them  follow  on,  and  delight  themselves  with  theijr 
ohase.  The  passengers  shout  at  them,  but  they  are  not  alarmed; 
othiBTB  cast  newspapers  on  to  their  path,  but  they  tarry  not  for  theiir 
yeniflal,  their  noses  are  thrust  against  the  floating  object,  and  on  tliejF 
go.  Some  throw  bread  oyerboiu*d,  and  others  say  they  saw  it  sei2sed 
and  s^tallowed.  See !  as  our  vessel  sinks  into  the  trough  of  the  sea^ 
a  i^eore  of  them  are  on  the  top  of  the  wave,  and  with  impertinent  eyea 
Laok  down  upon  our  very  deck,  and  seem  to  possess  themselves  of  otur 
peereta.     Anon  they  are  en^lphed  and  disappear. 

But  how  the  sea  ragea !  How  the  winds  blow !  How  the  poor 
steamer  storms  along  her  mountain  path !  In  port  she  was  a  monster^ 
BOW  she  is  a  mere  oockle  shell.  Worse  and  worse  swells  the  gale, 
hif^ber  and  still  higher  come  the  waves ;  they  break  over  the  bow,  thecyt 
dash  themselves  over  the  bulwarks,  they  climb  the  very  pipe  of  diA 
ateamer !  If  thia  is  but  the  banning  of  the  storm,  pray  i^hat  is  to 
be  ita  conclusion  1  How  rou^,  too,  is  the  motion  of  the  boat !  No 
j^ition  is  comfortable ;  no  part  of  the  boat  is  quiet ;  there  is  no  te* 
tvea*  fr6m  the  dawning  distress*  The  wind,  instead  of  lulling  with  the 
aetdng  sun,  otaly  pipes  die  louder.  The  sailor^  are  running  all  over 
the  vessel,  dosing  doWn  the  dead  lights,  and  preparing  for  rougb 
Ire^lther.  The  eourage  of  the  pasMigers  begins  to  fiblter,  at  length  t» 
finl,  and  soon,  with  countenances  ghastly  as  criminals  doomed  to  deaths 
down  they  sink  into  the  miseries  of  a  close  and  prison-like  state  roon:!, 
overcome  by  some  mi^c  power  which  works  against  their  will  and 
oonquers  them  to  submission. 


itO  KHtOfBAK  jmMWiICa; 


Among  the  yanquished  mnltitade  is  myself.  I  had  struggled  to  tiis 
atmost  verge  of  resistance,  clinging  to  the  deck  and  open  air  until  thb 
ship  seemed  one  moment  to  navigate  the  waves,  then  the  douds,  then 
the  sea  again.  My  head  was  swimming ;  my  feet  were  staggering,  I 
knew  not  where,  so  sinking  at  last  upon  some  firiendly  arm,  I  bade 
^  good  night "  to  Ocean,  and  flung  myself  upon  the  lounge  of  my  stata* 
room,  a  wretched  victim  to  those  stem  requirements  that  Neptune  ex- 
acts from  all  those  who  seek  for  the  first  time  to  look  into  the  secrel 
places  of  his  dominion.  While  I  was  on  the  deck  and  beheld  the  sea 
in  its  stormy  glory,  I  almost  expected  to  see  this  old  monarch  of  tlie 
floods  sweep  forth  from  his  cave,  and  in  his  dolphin-draped  car  ride 
^rth  majestically  into  our  presence.  But  although  he  did  not  thw 
show  himself,  he  made  us  feel  ourselves  the  subjects  of  his  power, 
and  we  bowed  beneath  the  scepter  of  his  sway.  Hie  abject  misery  of 
the  three  days  during  which  I  lay  at  his  feet,  need  not  here  be  recorded  ; 
anfiice  it  to  say  my  sensations  were  very  much  like  those  of  a  laaa 
who  has  been  sent  to  sea  in  rough  weather  sealed  up  in  a  barrd,  and 
tumbled  about  at  the  pleasure  of  the  waves.  Nothing  in  my  apart- 
ments remained  in  any  one  position  for  more  than  a  second  at  a  timak 
Every  thing  on  the  sides  of  the  room  partook  of  a  pendulous  motion, 
and  had  to  be  stripped  from  its  place ;  while  the  dashing  of  waten 
overhead,  the  harsh  beating  of  the  waves  outside,  and  the  creaking  and 
groaning  of  the  vessel,  as  she  labored  along  through  the  sea,  added  to  tha 
cries  of  sick  passengers,  exceeded  in  confusion  and  distress  anything 
ever  heard  before.  The  vessel's  creaking  was  immense  in  its  expreaa* 
ion  ; — all  the  gig  and  harness  shops  of  Boston,  condensed  into  oaef 
and  the  shofb  of  Bunker  Hill  on  top  applied,  with  a  variable  and  undo^ 
lating  pressure,  could  not  begin  to  equal  it. 

But  the  days  of  my  probation  were  ended,  and  ere  long  I  was 
assisted  to  the  upper  deck,  where  I  spent  one  entire  day  prone  upon  a 
buffalo  robe.  The  sea  was  growing  gradually  tranquil,  but  the  marks 
of  its  turbulent  frolic  were  all  over  the  ship ;  even  the  steamer^a  greal 
pipe  had  changed  its  odor  half  way  up  from  red  to  white,  and  the  ves- 
sel looked  as  if  she  had  been  travelling  under  the  sea  instead  of  over 
it  for  the  three  preceeding  days.  The  night  slowly  rolled  itself  away^ 
and  with  pleasure  I  hailed  the  retreat  of  her  hours,  as  they  ^1  from 
the  ship's  bell  over  my  head ;  and  now,  on  this  our  tenth  day  out,  wa 
were  drawing  near  to  our  first  sight  of  land,  the  beautiful  sfaoreB.af 
Ireland. 


v;ft- 


TBATSUI  IN  THK  SOTTPHWEST.  IttI 

-  * 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SbUTH-WEST. 


BT  OILBIBT  BAIBAWAT,  1I8Q.,  OV  LAPOBn»  IVD. 

Palsbtinb,  Tbzab. 


DsAB  K : 

You  will  readily  perceive  from  the  above,  that  I  have  progressed 
wome  distance  from  where  my  last  communication  was  addressed ;  in 
which  I  have  had  the  varied  fortune  incident  to  traveling  in  this  new 
country,  much  of  which  I  will  now  attempt  to  give  you  in  detail. 

If  I  remember  correctly;  my  last  letter  was  brought  to  a  close  by 
giving  you  some  account  of  mine  host  at  Sherman.  During  my  stay 
at  his  house,  of  two  days  duration,  I  experienced  a  visitation  from  a 
^  Norther,''  of  which  I  had  received  most  fearful  accounts  before  visit- 
ing the  state,  leading  me  to  dread  an  exposure  to  its  freezing  efiect, 
and  in  fact,  this  feeling  was  not  much  modified  by  what  I  had  heard 
since  my  arrival.  You  must  know,  that  the  weather  here  during  the 
winter  months,  is  generally  mild  and  very  agreeable ;  not  so  warm  as 
to  make  it  necessary  to  change  one's  woolen  coat  for  linen ;  nor  so  cold 
as  to  require  an  overcoat  of  any  description ;  but  of  that  delightful 
temperature  when  one  feels  neither  too  hot  or  too  c^ol,  but  in  that 
•ort  of  blissful  state,  when  he  would  not  change  a  degree,  even  if  he 
had  the  power  to  do  so,  being  perfectly  satisfied  as  it  is — ^when  sud- 
denly, tout  un  coup,  while  in  perfect  enjoyment  of  this  tranquil  and 
agreeable  degree  of  warmth ;  while  all  is  hushed  in  the  sweet  stillness 
9f  quiet  repose ;  when  there  is  not  a  ripple  on  the  sea ;  so  still  that 
the  oblique  rays  of  declining  day  sink,  without  shadow,  into  its  mo- 
^lionless  bosom,  and  when  not  a  leaf  rattles  in  the  grove,  with  the  sun^s 
light  as  mildly  serene,  as  in  the  bright  mornings  of  June,  with  atmos- 
pheire  as  bland  as  imagination  can  picture  to  a  fancy  alive  with  enjoy- 
ment ;  when  the  delicate  wild  flower  first  throws  out  its  tinny  petids 
for  the  dewy  kiss,  amid  the  green  spires  of  neighboring  grapes :  then^ 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  as  it  is  were,  the  whole  scene  is  changed.- 
Tbe.Borth  wind  rushes  from  its  mysterious  chambers,  as  if  impelled 
by  some  demon  in  the  rear,  hastening  forward  to  entrap  its  prey ; 
angry  clouds  skirt  the  horizon  and  fly  before  the  gale.  You  hasten  to 
pat  on  your  overcoat,  sad  order  a  fire  made  on  the  heartk  Yoa. 
diiver  with  cold  for  the  wind  is  sharp  and  piercing  in  its  toueh» 


Ml  fn^tsiB  IN  VEB  sotnBwnr. 


Your  house  is  open.  When  the  wind  did  not  blow,  it  was  not  neoeflsary 
to  have  your  rooms  plastered,  and  now  the  cold  is  so  greats  that  it  caa 
not  be  done.  You  have  also  n^lected  to  have  the  crevioes  Med  up ; 
then,  go  where  you  may,  this  piping  wind  will  find  your  retreat  The 
fire  blazes  high,  yet  the  oold  ehilla  run  down  your  back,  for  the  Frost 
King  has  made  his  appearance,  and  is  encircling  you  in  his  arms,  and 
nipping  at  your  shoulders. 

The  wild  bird  which  sported  so  gaily  in  the  ambient  air,  or  sailed 
on  ih»  silvery  sur&ce  of  the  water,  is  now  seen  tossed  to  and  fro, 
sweeping  headlong  before  the  blast.  The  numerous  herds  of  cattle,  86 
t«C8ntly  feeding  on  the  tender  herbage,  or  lazily  ruminating  the ''  cud 
of  their  contentment,"  beneath  the  shade^iving  branches  of  the  osAe^ 
now  rush  stark  mad,  with  the  wildness  of  fury,  to  seek  shelter  from  the 
storm  in  the  bottom-lands^  some  miles  distant ;  for  Boreas,  in  his  rag» 
is  pursuing  them,  and  with  hail  and  sleet  (SUudies  against  diebr  unpro- 
tected sides.  Fiercer  and  more  fieroe  he  comes  rusfaiiig  on  -^  detect 
and  more  shrill  are  the  notes  of  his  voice;  it  is  the  wild  antlnsa 
sung  by  maddened  Nature,  whose  organs  stretch  from  the  xnoiuitainB 
to  the  sea,  and  the  tones  of  which  reach  to  the  douds ;  all  things  bend 
befcHre  him,  for  there  is  no  wif^tanding  the  terribleoess  of  his  na^btf 
power. 

The  grass  is  stiffened  by  his  touch,  and  the  budding  flower  shrinks 
from  his  chilling  embrace.  The  small  branches  of  the  trees  are  en* 
tased  with  c^nented  particles  of  his  breath ;  a  sombre  shsde^  ba  a  paikf 
li  cast  over  the  &oe  of  the  scene  of  his  visitation,  and  you  wisii  -^ 
tremblingly  wish  —  for  his  departure.  Your  prayer  u  granted !  H« 
tarries  not  long ;  he  has  swept  by ;  his  fury  is  broken,  and  aU  again  is 
^mness  and  repose.  The  jeweled  particles  with  which  he  bedeokoA 
^  trees  and  herbage,  have  loosened  their  hold^  and  dropped  to  eardk 
The  little  flower  again  rears  its  head  and  opens  its  arms  to  the  sun's 
welcome  ray;  Birds  are  heard  singing  amid  the  branchesy  and  tbs 
affiighted  cattle  return  from  their  shelt^  in  the  woods,  to  nip  ths 
tender  blAde  which  oomes  spontaneously  forth  for  their  entertainments 
•  These  storms  of  wind  generally  continue  from  ons  to  three  daySj 
and  ocoor  at  intervals  from  ten  to  fifteen  days,  daring  the  months  oi 
}3teo0mber  and  January.  Sometimes  they  are  very  dry,  which  mai^ 
pemoDB  deem  the  moat  severe ;  at  oAer  times  they  are  aeoompanisdi 
ivUh  hail  or  sleet,  and  sometimes  a  little  snow*  Hkis  is  a  Texas  wintsn 
nere  are  generally  from  fosr  to  six  of  these  northers  in  the  conns  oi 
tbe  asasoci.  At  other  times  the  wealter  is  reikiarkably  pbasantk.  .Ib 
jAxib  coldest  weather  the  thermometer  does  not  sink  UMidi  bel«w  tha 
ftiwsing^  point.    But  froaa  the  suddemiess  of  their  appeatenoe,  msA 


A  VOWFBXB,^TAXnm  fBB  IfiQAB. 


domoqileDt  tnmiitioD  tpom  heat  to  ooid,  the  j  produce  «  Tory  ehflHng 
effect,  and  woe  to  the  hapless  traveler,  who,  in  crossing  a  large  prainA^ 
happens  to  be  overtaken  by  one  of  these  blasts,  if  he  has  not  his  over- 
Qoat  or  indispensable  blanket.  He  will  be  chilled  through,  and  in 
most  cases  pay  for  his  carelessness  by  a  fit  of  pneumonia,  which,  vndar 
the  present  state  of  medical  science  in  most  districts,  will,  in  a  larga 
percentage  of  cases,  terminate  fiitally. 

A  dry  norther  blew  the  day  I  readied  Sherman,  but  as  my  road  Is^ 
in  a  southerly  direction,  it  gave  me  but  littie inconvenience.  The  next 
day  it  readied  its  hei^t,  but  that  being  Sunday  I  was  not  exposed  to 
it^  only  as  I  felt  its  penetrating  influence  throu^  the  numerous  crevi- 
oes  of  an  open  house.  On  Monday  I  drove  thirty  miles  across  an  opim 
prairie  country,  but  experienced  it  only  in. a  moderate  way,  as  by  thia 
time  its  fury  had  abated.  The  next  storm  of  the  kind,  about  ten  daya 
later,  I  had  full  oppcnrtunity  of  testing.  I  was  crossing  a  prairie.  It 
was  said  to  be  tiie  ooldest  storm  of  the  season  :  the  mercury  stQpd  at 
25*^  Farenheit,  but  the  weather  seemed  to  be  much  colder  than  that 
d^ree  indicated^  yet  I  found  little  or  no  inconvenience  in  travelings 
and  therefore  concluded  that  much  more  was  said  about  their  severity 
than  truth  really  warrants.  But  this  sentiment  may  be  owing  to  tbe 
fitct  that  I  have  not  been  in  the  south  much.  When  I  have  been  here 
longer,  perhaps  my  system  will  be  in  a  state  to  appreciate  th^tn  mora 

ftaiy. 

As  is  ray  custom  in  setting  out  from  a  place  in  the  morning,  I  "  take 
the  road^'  for  the  day  from  the  landlord,  or  som«  person  who  pretends 
to  understand  the  route  I  wish  to  take.  So  the  morning  I  bid  ferewell 
to  the  Sherman  Hotel,  the  keeper  thereof  informed  me  that  I  would 
take  the  second  right  hand  road,  "  then,"  said  he,  "  you  will  pass  the 
bottom )  as  you  ascend  the  bank,  you  will  take  to  the  right  again,  and 
keeping  the  main  traveled  road,  you  will  reach  Dallas."  As  I  as- 
cended from  the  bottom,  I  discovered  a  road  "  taking  off"  to  the  right; 
tljis,  of  course,  is  the  road  I  am  to  pursue  —  and  so  I  did  pursue  it^ 
"{Fhen,  in  a  short  distance,  I  observed  a  second  "  right  hand"  road,  whidi^ 
to  all  appearances,  was  the  "  main  traveled  road ;"  but  from  certain 
indications,  not  easy  to  define,  I  hesitated  about  taking  it.  Its  direor 
tion,  as  seen  crossing  the  hiDs  in  the  distance,  did  not  seem  to  indicate 
the  direction  I  should  go,  according  to  my  pre-conoeived  notions.  I 
hesitated  for  some  time  as  to  what  I  should  do — halting  between  two 
6pittions,  one  based  on  my  own  judgment,  the  other  on  the  dfreetif^bi 
I  had  received,  which  were  positive  and  readily  understood,  imd  beiil|f 
M»  pTasn,  I  dedded,  against  my  better  judgment,  and  wetitto  the  ^  rigktf 
Btft  ih  tfAs  case,  as  ih  all  others,  when  I'Viow  ti^aBi^resa^  thalf 


1 


HA  TRAYEIB  Of  THB  SOUTHWEST. 

■  '■  '  "  I  ^  ■  ■      I  I        I        ■         ■       I       I       ■    I         ■■  I  ■   W       Pli    i    >  J 

tion  I  erred ;  which  error  cost  me  several  imneceeaary  nulcBof  ifawii 
and  consequent  delay. 

I  have  oft  times  been  amused  at  the  instruction  received  from  per- 
•ons  on  my  route,  when  inquiring  my  way.  •*  Yon  will  take  down  by 
that  fence  yonder,  you  see  there,"  says  an  old  man  to  me  one  day, 
••  iOl  you  reach  yon  comer  of  the  field.  You  will  not  turn  there,  bul 
keep  right  on.  You  had  better  take  this  way  on  account  of  the  creelr. 
When  you  reach  the  point  of  timber,  Jceep  it  to  the  lefl,  and  not  take 
the  right  turn  in  the  road,  that  will  take  you  to  Smith'^s  saw  mill,  and 
I  reckon  you  do  not  wish  to  go  to  the  saw  mill.  You  have  a  bu^y,  and 
you  had  better  not  go  by  Mercer's,  for  the  crossing  is  not  good  there, 
I  think  you  had  best  go  by  Ned  Jones',  and  when  you  get  there  yoa 
had  better  call  on  Ned,  or  his  wife,  if  he  is  not  at  home,  and  get  tho 
road  from  her."  Poor  man !  He  supposed  I  knew  where  Mercer 
lived,  and  which  road  led  to  the  mill,  and  that  I  could  go  to  Ned 
Jones*  just  as  well  as  he  could  ;  telling  me  much  that  I  should  not  do, 
and  nothing  that  I  should  do,  to  find  my  way.  I  lefb  him,  with  a  very 
eonfuscd  notion  of  the  road.  I  drove  on,  trusting  to  my  own  judg- 
ment to  find  the  house  of  Ned,  where  he  thought  I  had  better  call. 
When  I  had  driven  five  miles,  I  came  to  a  house,  and  to  my  inquiry 

of  the  woman  at  the  door,  "  Is  this  the  direct  road  to  Mr.  A *m 

plantation  V*  I  received  the  following  laconic  reply :  "  Ye-e-a  sir. 
About  a  quarter.  Take  to  the  right.  You'll  see  his  house  in  fiva 
miles."  This  was  intelligible  and  to  the  point  I  dnwe  on  with  much 
confidence,  but  I  never  learned  whether  I  was  indebted  to  Mrs.  Jones 
ibr  the  intelligence. 

The  country  from  Sherman  to  Dallas  is  of  similar  clmractcr  to  that 
I  have  been  traveling  for  several  days  —  rich  and  very  productiva 
prairie,  interspersed  with  streams  of  water,  skirted  with  timber.  The 
first  day's  drive  brought  me  to  the  town  of  M'Kinney,  the  seat  of 
justice  of  Collin  county.  This  place  boasts  of  two  public  houses,  but 
if  the  one  at  which  I  did  not  stop,  is  not  better  than  the  one  I  was  at^ 
I  most  sincerely  pity  all  persons  who  are  compelled  to  put  up  a| 
either. 

It  was  cold  that  night.  I  was  chilled  by  my  ride,  and  found  it  ut» 
lerly  impossible  to  better  my  condition  in  regard  to  warmth,  by  tb» 
approaching  of  a  fire  where  three  sticks  of  green  wood  lay  smouldo^ 
ing.  The  house  was  crowded  with  persons  who  had  something  to  do 
widi  a  horse  race,  which  was  soon  to  oome  off  in  the  neighborhood, 
who  entertained  each  other  by  reooiiDtlDg  thoir  exploits  at  the  gaming 
tiUe^ai^d  their  eaoountera  in  the  deadly  fight^  interlarded  the  whU^ 


PRO0B8S  OF  BOKDBR  (SarTTLEMENT.  SS 

Wkb  the  most  horrid  oaths  possible  for  man  to  utter,  and  occasionally 
«toneked  with  a  Tvlgar  tale. 

I  was  compelled  to  listen  to  all  this,  for  there  was  but  one  room  ^ 
the  house,  save  the  dining  room,  and  one  or  two  miserably  dirty  bed 
rooms.  I  spent  a  doleful  n'ght,  and  bid  farewell  to  the  town  in  ib& 
tnoming,  and  the  gambling  inhabitants  thereof,  with  a  hearty  good 
If  ill,  greatly  rejoiced  that  1  had  met  with  no  mishap  during  my  stKf* 
Hie  situation  of  the  place  is  pleasant,  and  i>cing  the  center  of  a  larga 
and  rich  country,  will  at  some  day  become,  I  doubt  not,  an  orderly 
town.  Afler  the  gamblers  have  lessened  their  numbers  by  the  usual 
means,  the  revolver  and  bowie-knife,  the  renuiinder  will  seek  <}uartera 
in  some  places  more  remote,  where  their  arts  can  be  practiced  with 
less  molestation.  This  result  will  probably  be  more  speedily  brought 
about,  than  persons  not  acquainted  with  the  killing  propensities  of  this 
class  of  people,  would  at  first  imagine.  The  news  arrived  in  town 
this  night  that  a  chum  of  one  of  the  leaders  there,  had  two  days  before 
been  killed  in  a  brawl.  And  ev^i  there  a  fight  occurred,  in  which 
their  weapons  were  freely  used,  by  two  men  in  an  encounter,  which 
ensued  from  a  quarrel  at  the  gaming  table.  But  when  I  left  neither 
of  the  parties  were  dead. 

These  desperate  characters  congregate  in  frontier  towns  and  hamlets 
to  practice  their  nefarious  arts,  but  are  dispersed  by  the  coming  of  a 
better  class  of  people,  those  who  settle  on  the  lands  for  the  purpose  of 
cultivation.  In  the  progress  of  the  settlement  of  a  new  ocuntry,  as  soon 
as  the  Methodist  preacher,  on  his  itinerant  mission,  makes  his  appear^ 
ance,  and  sohool  houses  find  a  lodgement  in  the  village,  this  class  of 
desperadoes  4ake  their  departure  for  more  congenial  quarters,  on  the 
frontier  beyond.  And  thus  it  has  been  from  the  earliest  setUem^ts 
of  the  country — from  the  north  to  the  south,  from  the  east  to  the  west* 
First  comes  the  trapper  and  hunter  ;  next  the  hardy  pioneer  setUeri 
who  erects  his  cabin  on  the  banks  of  some  stream,  and  cultivates  ita 
rich  soil,  amid  the  loneliness  of  surrounding  nature ;  then  comes  the 
renegade  from  civilized  life,  to  practice  his  arts  on  the  unsuspecting; 
Boon  the  man  of  God,  of  the  persuasion  above  mentioned,  makes  his 
advent,  with  broad-brim  hat  and  sanctimonious  look,  on  his  sleek,  well 
&d  horse,  having  a  care  for  the  wanderers  in  a  new  land.  Then  the 
teaeher — ^when  soon  thereafter  all  the  concomitants  of  civilization  ara 
usfacaned  in. 

Ttie  town  pf  Dallas  is  situated  in  a  lai^e  grove  of  oak,  on  the  east 

side  of  Trinity  river.  The  site  is  high,  dry  and  sandy,  with  high 
hmxjk  om  the  river ;  while,  on  the  opposite  side,  is  an  extensive  bottom, 
covered  with  a  rich  growth  of  vegetation,  subject  to  overflows  in  rainy 
Beacons,     This  place  b  said  to  be  unhealthy.     From  its  position,  and 


Mi  ^SBLkmEir  m  Tm  fooTsvm; 


Ik^  mmtKer  of  persons  I  saw  ^  slMikibg,"  ih^  initfaMMici  ttf  «li*tf«Mrit 
I  am  not  inclined  to  dispate,  in  fact  it  is  diffiool^  to  tomim^  ttMr# 
o6idd  be  otherwise.  The  malarin  wMog  frtm  the  de<!i^  oCifepDtefioii 
iMirthe  low  laad^  settles  on  the  town,  prodoelng  disease  amoag  Hatt^ 
habitants. 

The  ooimtry  near  is  very  fertile,  and  bsantifiilly  situate^  prodrang 
eern^  oats,  wheat,  and  other  prodnots,  ia  great  aibundteoe.  It  is  UsA 
an  unnsual  yield  to  harvest  fi*om  thirty  to  thirty-^ve  bushels  of  whoHt 
per  acre,  weighing  seventy-three  pounds  per  bushel.  All  these  pn^ 
duote  find  a  ready  market  at  home^  and  must  ooDlanue  to  do  so  as  long 
as  emigrafcioR  is  as  it  now  ia  Owii^  to  the  remoteness  from  nasffket^ 
iMton  is  raised  only  in  limited  quantity,  but  there  is  mudi  land  that 
iif  weU»adapted  to  its  growth,  aad  when  the  time  arrii^ea  Bffar^ag 

transportation  fadlities,  I  presume  that  braadi  will  be  carried  on  ta 

—  ^*- 

pfOUb. 

This  place  is  a  kind  of  out-fitting  post  for  the  emigrants' wjio  settfa 
the  new  lands  beyond,  consequently  it  has. become  a  fine  plaee  fbr  sell^ 
bag  goods  and  merchandise  of  all  desoriptietft.  The  merchants  aiM 
doing  a  good  business,  and,  what  can  not  be  said  of  any  other  town  ia 
the  state,  they  receive  on  their  sales  about  one*third  es^.  The  ema- 
grants,  who  are  their  best  customers,  are  usually  qinte  well  aiqppiled 
with  money,  and  not  having  been  long  enough  in  the  country  to  catA 
lish  a  credit,  are  necessitated  to  use  it  fVeely  in*  their  purchases^ 

In  all  eottdn  regions  a  system  of  credit  prevttls,  winch  does  not  oht 
tain  where  the  people  are  dependent  on  any  of  the  other  great  staifdaai 
There  is  but  (Hie  day  m  the  year  when  it  is  presumed  that  a  plantep-^ 
and  oosaequently  no  one  else-*-has  money ;  that  is  the  first  day  df 
January.  At  that  time  a  settlement  is  presumed  to  take  place,  and 
nmning  accounts  of  the  year  jH^eVious,  whether  put  into  noteaor  aOt| 
bear  interest.  By  common  consent,  tMs  is  made  the  p^r  ^by,  ant 
eredit  runs  on  all  purdiases  to  that  period.  A  merchant  does  not  tm 
pact  Us  pay,  for  an  article  sold  in  January,  till  the  fitst  day  of 
month  the  year  following;  but  he  also  expects  his  pay  oft  the 
day  for  all  articles  sold  in  December  immediately  preoediBg^  and  aa 
of  ail  intermediate  periods* 

This  system  of  credit  works  disastrously,  in  very  many  instaiide^ 
to  both  seller  and  buyer — ^the  one  not  being  abld  to  realise  on  his  saM 
only  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  is  subject  to  many  annoyancesf  hi 
making  and  remitting  his  liabilities,  which  often  proves  detrimental ; 
while  the  buyer,  having  a  long  credit  with  his  merchant,  is  many, 
many  times  induced  to  make  his  bills  much  larger  than  he  othi^rwisd 
would,  or,  in  fhct,  his  necessities  require.     Trusting  to  his  yeart  (^p 


A  ONE  Um^  ^y&imy-^^S^^TMW^  BVSULTS.  ill 

ti^.  n^^.  4^  d<»myid^  h^  i»  sure  to  $|U  shprt  of  ikfkt  i>ljj^Qt»ivbeA  diQ 
I^QjOP  h  tt^iiPOf  UiQU«  «»d  4ifi  r««au]K;6.£u^;  tbp  OOQSBquenw  is,  h^ 
IPr.«pisiip!9U^  V>ylM»re  bia  aoewnti  oaeii^d  oyer  to  fwotber  year,  Thfiq^ 
(itioiidd  tfieie  W  ft  suec«ssk>Q  of  ii^iluves  in  hm  wojpSy  in  most  instancan 
)i^»kruptoy  ensues,  bnngkag  with  it  the  usually,  attendant  disasterst 
For  the  cotton  pl^o^  has  np  resofurces  when  this  calamity  heftlli 
}|i«i^.  His  wbol^  aixa  is  to  "  Boake  cotton."  He  makes  cotton  to  en- 
^l^  km  ^  h^J  n€^Oi^  sfid  buys  negroes  to  viake  cotton!  Thw 
si^^9  t^  be  the  sole  idea  of  bis  existoaoe ;  he  acts  upon  no  other, 
^Phe  real  co^fton  plajE^ter  does  not  raise  the  com  necessary  for  his  oim 
Qdkqsumptioa^  preferring  to  buy  what  be  needs  from  some  person  at  % 
4istai9iH^  and  incur  all  the  risk  and  cost  of  transportation.  His  "  meat,'' 
tqq,  on  which  his  ^'  hands ''  are  fed,  by  which  his  cotton  is  made,  is 
gfovn  m,  a  froe  state,  more  than  fifteen  hundred  miles  distant. 

.  It  seeoas  as  though  he  never  would  learn  tiiat  there  may  be  a  good 
QTop  of  com  raised,  when  the  cotton  may  fiul,  or  that  he  can  raise  about 
tihd  same  amouoit  of  cotton,  with  the  same  hands,  and  all  the  com  and 
]|aeat>  his  plantation  requires,  without  additional  cost  He  learns  n^ 
Wis(}om  by  experience,  He  pursues  the  s£^me  course  pursued  by  hif 
fttb^r  before  him.  He  makes  use  of  the  old  fashioned  heavy  wooden 
plow-  and  ponderous  hoe,  that  was  in  vogue  before  Whitney  invented 
tt#  gin*  Although  he  has  fine  native  grass  growing  in  great  abundance 
OB  his  own  plantation,  and  which,  if  properly  cured,  at  the  right  seasoni 
woidd  make  most  excellent  hay,  yet  be  sufiers  it  to  go  to  waste,  prei> 
4miiQ^  to. buy  hay  grown  near  Boston,  brought  to  the  coast  in  ship% 
aad  h^ed  to  bis  door,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  a  seaboacdi 
^  which,  he  feeds  his  working  oxen  and  mules  during  the  wintsr.  A9 
be&re  remarked,  he  has  but  one  idea,  and  that  is  a  cotton  one.  This 
ifi  OP  overwrou^t  picture.  I  have  seen,  on  former  trips  to  the  country^ 
Ugav^  aad  again,  the  long  ox  teams  returning  from  the  coast,  afteir 
having  taken  down  cotton,  loaded  with  bundles  of  hay,  raised  an4 
fa^ed  in  Ifassaehusetts;  and  com  and  bacon,  and  even  butter,  from 
Qhip-  and  IiikdiaBa ;  and  sometimes  it  is  brought  as  hijj^  up  the  country 
i#  ]daUa%  being  more  tbaa  three  hundred  miles  from  Galveston, 

tfr  will  be  readily  seen  from  the  above,  that  those  years  when  tba 
<SH9f^iasbort,.or  price  of  cotton  low,  or  when  it  cannot  be  gotten  to 
market  at  an  early  day  in  the  season,  the  numerous  acooumbs  must  go 
unpaid  till  the  next  year,  and  then  take  their  chances  of  the  crop.  Hence 
large  dealers  in  the  north  find  trade  with  the  cotton  regions  so  exceed- 
ingly precarious,  the  country  dealer  cannot  pay  his  merchant,  unless 
he  realizes  on  his  sales  to  the  planter ;  hence  the  many  mercantile  dis- 
asters, both  here  and  elsewhere — a  legitimate  result  of  such  a  system 


tiii  TftAYELS  IH  THB  (SOlTrUWSBT. 

■-■'■■ 

of  doing  business,  the  credit  sT^tem.  And  so  long  is  Uiis  metbod  pri> 
vails,  there  will  be  frequently  recurring  periods  when  great  M^ogmey 
will  be  experienced  in  all  monetary  matters,  leading  to  embarassment 
and  bankruptcy.  Why  not  return  to  the  cash  principle  t  When  • 
fiirmer  needs  an  article  let  him  pay  for  it.  If  he  has  not  soffident 
money,  let  him  do  without  the  article  until  he  gets  it. 

**  Pay  as  you  go,"  is  one  of  the  safest  mottos  ever  acted  on,  and  if 
more  persons  would  adopt  it,  far  less  distress  and  poverty  would  be 
experienced  among  men.  Hiis  principle,  if  strictly  carried  out,  wiH 
bring  a  man  safely  through.  What  property  he  at  any  time  had, 
would  be  his  own.  He  would  rest  with  a  contented  mind.  Have  no 
false  hopes  raised  of  riches,  and  ease,  and  grandeur,  only  to  experience 
the  bitter  draught  of  disappointment.  A  merchant,  under  such  clr^ 
cumstances,  would  rarely,  if  ever,  fail.  The  planter  would  be  an  inde- 
pendent man,  being  the  owner  of  what  he  possessed^  having  no  fear  of 
collecting  agents,  or  minions  of  the  law. 

I  can  readily  perceive  that  this  system  would  be  less  likely  to  biiild 
up  those  colossal  fortunes  we  sometimes  see  suddenly  accumulated. 
But  it  must  be  recollected  that  these  riches  so  acquired,  have  been  re- 
alized by  the  few — the  very  few — from  the  sweat  and  toil  of  the  many. 
And  while  one  has  been  successful  in  running  the  race,  ninety  and  nine 
have  fallen  on  the  wayside,  to  reap  the  bitter  fruits  of  extravagant 
habits,  engendered  in  the  flush  of  credit.  There  would  be  a  general 
prosperity  throughout  the  land,  a  general  diffusion  of  the  property  of 
the  country,  and  intelligence  also,  and  consequently  virtue  and  happi- 
ness. Now,  do  not  look  upon  this  as  an  Utopian  idea;  it  may  be 
realized ;  and  who  is  there  dares  to  say,  that,  in  view  of  the  many, 
many  evils  attendant  on  the  credit  system,  the  world  would  not  be 
better  and  happier  if  this  system  was  abolished.  But  in  as  much  as  it 
IS  not  my  purpose  to  write  a  disertation  on  finance,  or  a  moral  leetarsy 
I  will  dismiss  the  theme  to  resume  the  thread  of  my  journey. 

Wax-Srhachi  is  a  new  village  situated  on  the  prairie,  near  the  creek 
of  that  name,  exhibiting  much  more  taste  and  neatness  than  is  usually 
met  with  in  towns  of  its  size.  A  neat  little  court-houae  stands  in  the 
*'  square,"  which  they  are  now  inclosing  with  a  substantial  board  fence. 
An  unusually  large  building  is  going  up,  designed  for  a  puUic  haoae, 
which,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  well  kept. 


VOL.  1.]  DECEMBER,  1857.  [NO.  12. 


NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 


BT  RXY.  GEO.  DUFFIKLD,  D.  D. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

Eom»'^lts  GovemmerU — Her  Campagna — Embarking  from  Civiia  Oivhia — Arrivai 

at  NaplsSj  etc. 

■ 

We  left  Rome  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  in  voitures,  and 
traveled  as  we  had  done  when  we  went  there.  Our  experience  had 
taught  us,  however,  to  provide  for  our  repast  hj  the  way.  We 
should  have  fared  no  better  at  the  half-way  house,  if  we  had  not  done 
so,  than  when  we  stopped  there  the  week  previously.  Cold  fish — that 
miserable  popish  dish,  which  the  arrogant  bishops  of  the  Romish 
church  allow  sometimes  during  lent,  etc.,  to  the  poor  slaves  of  their 
tyranny,  on  whom  they  inflict  the  pains  and  penalty  of  their  fasts — 
and  nothing  better  would  have  been  all  that  we  should  have  found. 
Wretched  country — degraded  people !  If  the  world  is  never  to  be 
enlightened,  reformed,  and  purified  till  Rome  does  it,  the  results  of 
her  experiment  for  the  last  twelve  hundred  years,  forbid  all  hope  for 
the  future.  She  has  been  well  described  in  the  27th  chapter  of  Reve- 
lation. If  in  any  place  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  her  system  and  forms 
of  religion  should  be  able  to  commend  their  influence  and  demon- 
strate their  efficacy,  it  should  be  in  the  great  fortified  centre  of  her 
Idolatry,  where  there  are  some  thirty  cardinals^  more  bishops,  fifteen 
hundred  priests,  more  than  two  thousand  monks,  and  nearly  as  many 
nuns,  in  a  population  of  some  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand. 
Here  she  appears  iu  all  her  grandeur  and  glory.  Her  cardinals  are 
not  allowed  even  to  appear  on  foot  abroad  in  the  sti*eets,  or  come  in 
dose  contact  with  the  vulgar  herd,  and  endanger  themselves  of  being 
jostled  by  their  involuntary  disrespect.  Her  Bishops  live  in  ease  and 
honor,  and  her  Priests,  etc.,  all  thrive  upon  estates  and  wealth  the 
church  has  amassed.  Yet,  is  there  nothing  physically  or  morally  to 
commend  her  government  or  religion.  Cleanliness  belongs  not  to 
the  place  or  its  people.    The  facilities  afforded  to  it  by  the  numeroufl 

VOL.  1    KO.  XII.— 34. 


6U  NOTES  OF  FOREIGN  TBAYSL. 

. — , ■    -■ 

fountains  seem  not  to  be  appreciatecL  There  is  but  one  street  (dM 
G^rso)  that  has  sidewalks,  and  tbey  very  narrow.  Various  arts,  oocn> 
pations,  and  vending  employ mebits  have  their  functionaries  at  work 
and  entirely  at  home,  in  their  avociations  upon  the  streets.  The  plaos 
is  polluted  with  fleas,  from  which  you  cannot  altogether  escape,  even 
in  the  elevated  and  splendid  apartments  of  the  hotels  and  higher 
orders.  In  the  Piazza  Navona,  especially  on  the  market  day,  Italian 
life  and  manners  may  be  seen  in  characteristic  variety,  amid  shops  and 
stalls,  in  which  all  kinds  of  second-hand  articles,  in  prodigious  quaiF 
titles,  abound,  and  stores  of  higher  pretension,  where  loungers  and 
idlers,  and  those  who  have  time  for  the  business,  sometimes  find  great 
bargains  of  pictures,  cameos,  engravings,  intaglios,  gems,  antiques,  ete» 
In  the  hot  summer  months  I  learned  that  it  was  customary,  on  Satur- 
days and  Tuesdays,  to  inundate  the  whole  piazza  from  the  three  fouo- 
tains  ii  contains,  which  affords  great  amusement  for  the  people,  and 
attracts  curious  spectators  to  behold  Italian  life  and  manners.  But 
for  the  admirable  means  of  drainage — for  which  the  ancient  CloacQBi| 
yet  existing,  laid  the  foundation — the  fildi  of  the  city  would  become 
a  source  of  pestilence  much  greater  than  the  malaria  around  it,  and 
which  sometimes  penetrates  its  walls. 

'Pike  government  of  Rome^  and  that  of  the  papal  states,  is  a  Theoo^ 
racy,  and  yet  has  to  be  sustained  by  military  force !  The  pope,  as  Hb 
**  infallible"  head,  with  his  college  of  cardinals,  when  complete,  seventy 
in  number,  and  his  army  of  archbishops,  bishops,  priests,  and  secular 
clergy,  monks  and  nuns,  present  a  spectacle,  at  this  day,  of  one  of  the 
very  worst  and  most  odious  forms  of  tyranny  ever  exercised  over 
men.  In  criminal  proceedings,  there  is  no  bound  to  imprisonment  on 
mere  suspicion,  and  the  trial  ofben  is  postponed  indefinitely,  the  aoca 
sed  having  no  power  to  bring  his  case  before  the  judges.  The  absenoo 
of  liberation  on  bail,  imprisonment  for  all  kinds  of  offences,  etc,  keep 
the  prisons  full,  to  the  great  shame  and  reproach  of  the  papal  adrnm* 
iatration.  The  net  revenue  is  estimated  at  about  seven  millions  of 
dollars  of  our  currency,  one  third  of  which  goes  to  pay  the  interest 
on  debt,  and  the  rest  is  absorbed  by  the  expenses  of  the  State  govern- 
ment, and  Ecclesiastical  congregations,  allowances  and  salaries  fn 
cardinals,  the  maintainance  of  the  court  and  the  papal  dignity.  About 
three>fourths  of  the  poor  youth  in  Home  are  gratuitously  educated, 
but  throughout  the  papal  States  the  government  provides  education  for 
but  one  in  thirty.  Notwithstanding  there  are  six  universities,  Episco- 
pal and  commercial  schools,  academies,  and  other  institutions,  the  state 
of  education  is  said  to  be  generally  very  low,  and  chiefly  of  an  ecde> 
character. 


oorERSCwsfvr  o^  aoirs.      •  is^t^ 


'  The  govertiment  of  Rome  is  sustained  by  the  French  soldiery,  of 
#hom  there  are  now  fourteen  thousand  employed  for  that  purpose, 

H^e  population,  of  all  classes  and  grades,  except  the  priesthood  and 
the  army,  are  dissatisfied  with  it  and  opposed  to  it.  Were  this  for- 
eign army  withdrawn,  it  is  confidently  said,  that  a  day  would  not  pass 
before  Rome  would  again  be  filled  with  the  turmoil  of  revolution. 

The  pope  and  his  government  are  endeavoring  to  form  an  army  to 
protect  the  States  of  the  churt'h,  it  is  said,  against  Austria.  Until 
this  is  done,  France  claims  to  occupy  it  by  her  troops  for  its  preser- 
vation. The  present  pontiff  is  said  to  be  a  kind-hearted,  benevolently 
disposed  man.  His  cabinet,  however,  exclude  him  almost  wholly 
from  a  participation  in  civil  and  political  affairs.  He  is  full  of  chi- 
merical and  Quixotic  projects  for  the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of 
his  people ;  but  they  are  utterly  impracticable,  and,  while  he  can 
accomplish  none,  he  is  allowed  by  his  cabinet  to  amuse  himself  with 
his  fancies.  The  prophets  prophesy  falsely,  and  liie  priests  bear  rule 
by  their  means,  and  wonderfpl  and  horrible  things  are  done  in  the- 
land. 

1  looked,  as  I  walked  through  the  streets  of  Rome,  in  vain  for  the- 
cheerful  sportive  youth  so^abundant  in  other  cities,  especially  of  our 
own  beloved  country.  Here  and  there,  occasionally,  a  dull  formal 
company  of  lads,  led  by  priests,  in  procession,  and  dressed  in  gowna 
of  different  colors,  designating  their  schools,  might  be  seen  at  particu- 
lar periods  of  the  day.  No  spontaneous  gatherings  and  sportive 
groups  of  boys,  full  of  activity  and  mirth,  enlivened  the  streets ;  and, 
as  for  the  girls,  you  might  have  thought  that  the  sacerdotal  celibacy 
had  almost  banished  the  sex.  Upon  inquiring  where  are  your  youth! 
I  was  told  that  they  were  under  the  close  and  constant  inspection  of 
the  priesthood,  in  their  different  schools. 

The  taxes  here  ere  enormously  oppressive.  Government  bills  are 
passed  at  a  heavy  discount,  and  nowhere  beyond  the  city  limits. 
There  are  but  few  incentives  to  industry,  and  nothing  like  large  exten- 
sive manufactories  or  works  that  generate  wealth.  Not  a  tree  can  be 
planted  without  a  license  from  the  authorities  and  a  fee  paid  for  regis- 
tering it.  Every  calf,  pig,  or  domestic  animal  must  be  registered, 
directly  after  it  comes  into  existence,  for  which,  also,  a  fee  must  be 
paid ;  and  before  an  ox  or  sheep,  etc.,  can  be  killed,  a  license  must 
be  obtained  and  a  fee  paid.  Take  away  the  military  disbursements 
and  those  of  the  numerous  English,  American  and  other  travelers^ 
and  the  fees  derived  from  passports,  and  thereVould  be  little  to  causa 
any  circulation  of  money.  Ilie  great  trade  here  is  in  the  souls  anct 
sins  of  men,  of  whidi  the  church  has  an  imperial  mbnoply.    Tha 


$19  '   K0TB8  OF  FOttBION  TBAVBL. 

nobles,  the  middle  class  of  people,  the  peasants  and  the  lower  orden 
nniversally  hate  the  government^*  and  such  is  the  state  of  thuigs,  so 
eomplicated  and  burdensome,  as  I  was  informed,  that  it  was  bj  no 
means  an  uncommon  thing  for  one  man  to  own  apiece  of  land,  another 
or  several,  the  trees  upon  it,  a  tluj^  part/  the  fruit,  and  tliat  sometimes 
mortgaged  to  a  fourth. 

The  agricultural  territory  around  Rome,  the  Agro  Romano,  is  own- 
ed by  a  comparatively  small  number  of  large  proprietors,  princes, 
nobles,  and  corporations,  of  which  the  Chapter  of  St  Peters  is  amoiqr 
the  most  heavily  endowed.  The  owners  of  these  immense  estates  do 
not  manage  them  on  their  own  account  They  are  worked  or  render- 
ed productive,  by  a  class  of  men  called  Mercanti  di  Gompagna,  whose 
interests  being  similar,  and  whose  numbers  being  limited,  6nd  it  most 
profitable  to  combine  together  and  thus  control  the  market  of  thdr 
products.  These  merchants  reside  in  Rome,  and  only  occasionally 
visit  their  lease-holds,  which  are  committed  to  the  care  of  agents,  or 
overseers.  Under  them,  again,  are  various  subordinates  who  are  occu^^ 
pied  with  the  immediate  direction  and  watch  of  the  laborers  who  do 
the  work.  One  class  and  another  are  paid  for  making  the  remainder 
work.  But  poor  accommodations  are  afforded  in  the  way  of  dwel- 
lings, even  for  the  agents  or  higher  class  of  ministros  and  their  subor- 
dinate assistants — a  stone  house,  a  storehouse,  and  stable — while  the 
laborers  have  no  provision  made  for  their  permanent  shelter  or 
accommodation.  Herdsmen,  and  shepherds,  and  waggouers,  as  they 
would  be  called  in  Pennsylvania,  are  employed  by  the  year;  ploughs 
men  and  reapers  by  the  day.  The  breeding  and  rearing  of  animals  is 
said  to  be  more  lucrative  than  the  tilling  of  the  soil.  The  horse  is 
not  used  in  breaking  up  the  soil,  but  cattle  universally,  both  oxen 
and  cows.  The  herdsmen  and  shepherds  are  generally  attached  to 
the  estates,  and  their  habitations,  exceedingly  rude  and  coarse,  fumiA 
a  mere  shelter  from  the  winds  and  storms,  and  places  for  lighUng 
fires.  Not  unfrequently  they  are  mere  huts  with  thatched  roofs  and 
ddes  eovered,  or  plastered,  with  mud,  in  which  some  straw  has  been 
mixed.  A  ruined  building,  or  desecrated  and  neglected  tomb,  or 
mere  natural  cavity,  common  in  volcanic  regions,  afford  places  of 
retreat  during  the  summer.  There  are  no  rich  and  attractive  dairies, 
nor  do  they  understand  the  art  of  making  good  butter ;  but  small, 
round  cheeses,  made  from  the  milk  and  a  preparation  of  curd,  are 
sold  in  the  market  at  Rome.  The  shepherd  has  one  or  more  lai^ 
whitish  yellow  colored  'dogs,  who  serve  him  faithfully,  and  are  of 
great  service  in  protecting  his  flocks  from  the  wolf.  While  he  redines 
at  his  ease  and  exerotses  an  over-aight,  thej  do  the  work  of  gnardiB^ 


OOYBRN M8NT  OP  ROICE.  M 

ete.,  The  same  lazj,  listless  habits,  characterize  still,  as  in  the  days 
tyf  Virgil,  the  somnolent  shepherd  who  reposes  under  the  shade  of  a 
tree  and  regales  himself  with  the  unmusical  drone  of  his  dolorous 
tagpipe. 

fityra,  ta  patnloB  reeotem  »A  tcgmlne  fagi 

— l«Dtiu  In  umbra 
Formosam  rcsonaro  doeet  AmarylUda  Sylyas. 

The  love  and  the  music  may  have  been  more  interesting  in  the 
days  of  the  poet,  but  it  requires  more  imagination  than  I  possess  to 
work  up  anything  attractive  out  of  such  coarse  materials. 

The  condition  of  the  poor  laborers  is  wretched  and  degraded ;  their 
food  is  meagre  and  unwholesome ;  they  are  not  attached  to  the  estates,, 
but  are  led  and  moved  to  the  sphere  of  their  labor  by  the  principal 
man  or  chief  who  has  bargained  for  their  work ;  and  they  live  like 
wandering  tribes  or  families,  suffering  greatly  by  exposure  to  the  hot 
sun  and  cool  nights,  insufficiently  clad  and  uncomfortably  sheltered. 

These  are  some  features  of  the  state  of  things  under  the  papal  gov- 
ernment— ^a  government  proudly  and  blasphemously  claiming  to  be 
that  of  heaven — in  and  of  the  divine  right,  administered  by  the  Vicar 
of  Jesus  Christ?  Assuredly,  if  they  wished  to  make  a  reasonable 
pretext  on  their  behalf,  or  at  all  conciliate  our  respect  or  attention  to 
their  lofly  claims  and  pretensions,  they  ought  to  produce  and  show  a 
better  state  of  things !  How  palpably  does  the  providence  of  €rod, 
)}y  the  misery  and  degradation  of  the  people,  contradict  the  impious 
pretence  that  this  Pontifez  Maximus  is  the  representative  of  God  on 
earthy  and  as  such  exercises  his  authority !  You  look  in  vain  for 
some  memorial  of  these  priestly  sovereigns  that  may  be  traced  in  the 
comforts,  happiness,  social,  moral,  and  political  improvement  of  the 
people.  But,  while  your  eye  meets,  almost  in  every  direction,  tablets 
bearing  inscriptions  of  the  munificence  of  this  and  the  other  pope,  it 
is  to  be  seen  chiefly,  if  not  wholly,  not  in  works  of  general  improve- 
ment, but  in  palaces,  statues,  pictures,  tombs,  shrines,  and  the  like. 
Scarcely  has  an  instance  occurred  of  any  old  broken  statue  of  value, 
having  been  restored,  and  placed  in  a  museum,  or  some  choice  and 
new  objects  of  the  fine  arts,  having,  through  their  instrumentaUty, 
been  exposed  to  view,  but  what  you  read — ex  munificenHa — by  the  mu- 
nificence of  Sextus  v.,  or  Pius  VI.,  or  Clement  XU.,  or  Gregory  XVI., 
etc.,  etc.  The  great  care  of  these  self-styled  successors  of  the 
Apostles,  seems  to  have  been,  before  all  else,  to  leave  their  names 
inscribed  on  some  marble  memorials  of  their  proclaimed  munifi- 
cence !  The  priests  of  Rome  are  to  be  held  responsible  for  such  a 
•late  of  things ;  for  the  government  is  theirs.    Wretched  work  have 


M  NOTES  OF  FOmSiaiX  TBAVEL. 


Ibey  made  of  iL    No  wond&r  that  a  foreign  army  U  found 

jto  prevent  such  a  government  frojn  being  utterly  overthrowa  by  Ifaf 

poor  people  on  whose  necks  it  has  been  laid. 

During  my  stay  in  Rome  I  have  visited  or  passed  through  several 
times  the  Jews'  quarter,  called  the  Ghetto,  where  dwell  the  descend-^ 
ants  of  that  wretched  people,  brought  by  Titus,  from  Jerusalem,  to 
adorn  his  triumphs.  How  abject  is  their  condition.  The  iron  is 
indeed  driven  into  their  souls.  It  comprises  some  narrow  and  crooked 
streets  on  the  Tiber,  near  the  island,  and  is  entered  by  eight  gatei^ 
which,  till  the  accession  uf  Pio  Nono,  were  closed  from  early  in  tJM 
evening,  till  sunrise.  Poverty,  filth,  wretchedness  and  desolation  are 
the  characteristics  of  the  quarter.  The  Jewish  population  here  Is  froim 
four  to  five  thousand,  chiefly  petty  shop-keepers,  pedlars,  and  dealen 
in  pld  clothes,  and  second-hand  articles.  Their  condition  is  a  strikii^ 
comment  on  the  literal  fulfilment  of  the  predictions  concerning  them. 

October  23 — I  had  engaged  to^preach  on  Sabbath,  for  Mr.  Baiid, 
but  am  sadly  disappointed  by  the  determination  of  my  company  to 
go  to  Civita  Vecchia.  The  French  steamer  for  Naples  is  expected  to 
arrive  there  on  Monday.  It  therefore  became  needful  to  leave  Roma 
to*day,  in  order  to  prevent  traveling  on  the  Sabbath  and  detentiao 
beyond  the  time  proposed  to  reach  Naples. 

We  took  our  departure  in  private  voitures,  about  eleven  o'doek  ui 
the  forenoon,  by  the  same  route  we  hod  entered.  Our  way  lay  aloi^ 
the  Compagna.  This  immense  irregular  and  undulating  plain,  in  many 
respects  possiesses  the  deepest  interest  it  spreads  in  eYery  directtov 
around  Rome,  and  includes  a  portion  of  both  the  ancient  Latium  and 
that  of  Etruria.  From  Terracina  to  Civita  Vecchia  is  about  one  bim* 
dred  miles,  which  is  estimated  by  some  to  be  its  length,  while  i^ 
greatest  breadth  is  about  forty.  The  low  lands  of  the  Tiber,  mogp 
generally  among  tourists,  and  in  popular  language,  bear  the  name  oi 
the  Campagna.  The  valley  of  this  stream  is  bounded  by  the  Sabina 
and  Volsoian  hills ;  the  former  surround,  like  an  amphitheatre,  tha 
whole  of  its  northern  expanse.  There  is  but  little  picturesque  in  tba 
.soenery  of  this  monotonous  plain.  The  eye  ever  rises  for  relief 
to  the  hills,  and  distant  peaks  along  its  coasts.  The  whole  r^oa 
shows  the  action  of  volcanic  forces,  of  which  the  Alban  Mount  and 
Monte  Clmino,  seem  to  have  been  the  great  focL  The  geologist  em 
trace,  proof  of  the  action  of  both  salt  and  fresh  water  in  the  deposits^ 
and  strata  of  the  region,  as  well  as  of  the  ashes  and  scoriae,  disohargod, 
from  volcanic  rents,  in  the  varieties  of  piperino  used  for  building  piiiy 
ppsea  in  Rome.  Sulphurous  springs,  occurring  in  different  places,  and 
Qljher  indiQations  oonvineed  m^,  oi  what  I  have  loog  believed,  Irom. 


OnriTA  VBOOHIA.  «I9 


^  prophetic  pages  of  Soripture,  that  although  the  voloanio  fo?eeii, 
«^riuch  were  once  here  so  active,  have  been  for  centuries  kept  in  cheek 
l^  the  hand  of  th^  Almighty,  they  have  not  been  deistroyed,  and  can 
•Qon,  when  the  time  comes,  be  marshalled  again,  to  accomplish  His 
^rrath  in  Eome's  destruction  and  turn  the  whole  into  "  a  lake  of  fife 
burning  with  brimstone/' 

October  24 — 26,  At  Civita  Vecchia, — On  our  arrival  here,  last 
Saturday  evening,  we  obtained  comfortable  apartments  at  Orlandis 
liQtel.  The  steamer  Languedoc  had  been  expected,  but  had  not  yet 
wrived.  As  it  turned  out,  we  might  have  remained  at  Rome  till 
Monday,  or  even  Tuesday  morning,  had  we  known  all  beforehand, 
and  been  sure  that  we  could  both  have  started  early  enough  in  the 
day  to  have  passed  through  all  the  annoyances  of  the  custom-house 
officers  and  police  inspectors.  Obstacles^  rather  than  facilities,  ai» 
thrown  in  the  way  of  travellers  here.  Wo  were  relieved,  however, 
from  the  necessity  of  travelling  during  the  prevalence  of  a  heavy 
storm,  which  has  raged  here  since  Sunday  evening.  1  should  have 
bad  the  opportunity  of  preaching  on  the  Sabbath  in  Rome,  and  of 
being  ^^presented^'  to  the  pope,  on  the  day  following,  through  the  atten- 
tion, and  at  the  request,  of  Major  Cass.  This  is  about  all  that  would 
bave  relieved  the  monotony  of  our  stay  there  during  a  period  of  very 
wet  and  uncomfortable  weather. 

I  enjoyed  the  rest  we  have  had  here,  and  the  opportunity  afforded 
A>r  w^riting  letters  to  friends.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Barnes  and  lady  and 
daughter ;  Miss  Paul,  of  Philadelphia,  who  travelled  with  them ; 
Rev.  Dr.  C.  Hall,  whom  we  had  hoped  would  have  accompanied  us  to 
Naples ;  and  my  friend  and  travelling  companion,  Mr.  Wells,  were 
all  on  their  way  to  the  United  States,  expecting  a  steamer  from  Mar- 
•eilles.  Mr.  B.  was  discouraged,  and  led  to  think  his  health  would 
be  better  by  returning  home.  Dr.  Hall  had  improved  somewhat^ 
but  feared  to  retard  his  return,  though  very  anxious  to  visit  Naples; 
and  Mr.  W.,  by  the  advice  of  the  physician  at  Turin,  and  the  intelli- 
gence of  the  death  of  his  sister,  had  concluded  to  hasten  to  the  United 
States.  Dr.  H.  and  myself  are  henceforth  to  pursue  our  journey  to- 
Ipthen  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  accompany  them;  but  having \haa 
&r  been  graciously  upheld  and  protected  by  a  kind  Providence,  and 
baing  somewhat  improved  in  health,  a  sense  of  duty,  urging  me  to 
pursue  my  journey,  has  overcome  my  longings  after  home  and  tiie 
pastoral  labors  from  which  I  feel  it  a  great  trial  to  have  been,  of  late^ 
fttspended. 

On  the  Sabbath,  all  our  company,  with  the  courier  of  Mr.  B.,  num- 
bsyJDg  eight  person^,  met  in  the  largest  apartment  oocuiMed  by  Mr. 


iW  .  NOTES  OP  PORETGN  TRAVPL 

Barnes'  family,  having  arranged  it  among  ourdeWes  to  appropriate 
parts  of  the  morning  and  afternoon  to  the  worship  of  God,  after 
our  own  simple  Presbyterian  form.  It  was  insisted  that  I  should 
preach  in  the  morning,  and  Dr.  Hall  in  the  afternoon — ^which  we  did, 
"the  brethren  taking  part  in  the  other  services.  It  was  a  day  long  to 
be  remembered.  We  felt  as  if  possibly  some  of  us  had  met  for  tho 
last  time.  We  knew  not  what  results  the  perils  of  the  ocean  or  of 
travel  might  produce,  or  how  soon  the  progress  of  disease  might 
number  one  or  the  other  of  us  among  the  dead.  Our  communion 
was  sweetened  by  Christian  affection,  and  we  felt  that  there  existed 
bonds  of  friendship  which  neither  country  nor  clime,  time  nor  distanoCi 
life  nor  death,  could  sever. 

I  attended  the  afternoon  or  evening  service  in  the  principal  Ro- 
man Catholic  church  here,  which  seemed  rather  better  frequented  than 
those  I  had  seen  in  Rome.  I  witnessed,  also,  immediately  in  the  rear 
of  our  hotel,  the  ritual  services,  usual  among  Romanists,  at  the  laying 
of  the  comer  stone  of  a  new  place  of  worship  they  are  about  erecting 
here.  The  crowd  assembled  was  by  no  means  great ;  nor  were  there 
many  that  seemed  to  take  any  special  interest  in  what  was  going  on, 
other  than  to  look  with  curious  eye  upon  the  priestly  mummeries  and 
the  parade  of  the  bishop  and  his  attendants,  adorned  with  their  splen- 
did vestments,  and  performing  their  genuflexions,  processions  and 
chantings.  A  military  band,  near  to  our  hotel,  was  playing  lively 
airs  and  marches  within  hearing  of  the  bishop  and  his  attendants,  in 
the  area  immediately  adjoining.  The  music  was  intended  in  honor  of 
the  French  General  Thiere,  who  lodged  in  the  same  hotel  with  us — 
who  also  had  made  his  head-quarters  at  Rome  in  the  same  hotel  in 
which  we  abode,  and  who  had  arrived,  on  Saturday,  at  Qvita  Vecchia 
a  short  time  before  us,  though  we  had  no  intercourse  with  the  gentle- 
ipan,  nor  did  any  of  us,  I  believe,  even  see  him. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

ifaples, — CasUe  of  £SL  Btmo,—  Chnrch  of  SL  Martini — iSl  Januarius  and  hu  mtn»> 
€uhus  dhod, — John  the  Bjp  tu€a  Beka, — Santa  Clara^ — Museum. 

October  ^th. — ^The  storm  raged  violently  during  Monday,  and  the 
stea  mer  did  not,  as  was  expected,  make  her  appearance.  On  Tuesday 
it  began  to  abate,  and  the  French  steamer  I^anguedoc  arrived  in  time  for 
us  to  embark,  in  the  afternoon,  for  Naples.  I  could  hear  the  roar  of  tha 
agitated  sea  beyond  the  mole,  and  anticipated  a  rough  time.  Differ- 
ent boats  received  us  at  the  quay,  one  conveying  the  passengers  for 


VOTAGB  TO  NAPLES. 


tbe  Languedoc,  and  the  other  those  for  Marseilles,  who  embarked  ift 
•<lie  same  time  in  a  steamer  about  to  sail  for  Leghorn.  We  exp«> 
enced  no  inconvenience  from  any  motion  of  the  water  while  we  lay  in 
the  harbor — glad  to  exchange  a  few  last  lopks  and  salutations  while 
the  crews  of  the  respective  vessels  were  weighing  their  anchors.  Bui 
we  had  no  sooner  passed  outside  of  the  mole — apparently  with  soxxnb 
peril,  and  much  skill  on  the  part  of  the  captain, — than  we  encounterei 
the  heavy,  rolling  surges  of  the  troubled  deep.  I  tried  to  act  a  valiani  • 
part  and  remain  on  deck,  if  possible,  to  prevent  sea-sickness.  TT». 
deck  passengers,  male  and  female,  quickly  rolled  themselves  up  in 
their  cloaks  and  coverings,  and  laid  themselves  quietly  doW  to  eih 
dure  it.  An  English  gentleman  and  myself,  both  about  the  same  ago^ 
had  sought  a  resting-place  on  a  settee,  under  lee  of  the  life- boat  hanj^ 
ing  over  the  gunwale,  on  the  quart%r-deck.  The  vessel  rolled  and 
pitched  occasionally  with  great  violence,  until  a  wave  struck  her  Oft 
her  broadside,  and,  mounting  over  the  life-boat,  poured  down  its  tor» 
rent  upon  us,  sending  us  rolling  and  drifting,  and  thoroughly  wet,  t» 
the  other  side  of  the  deck.  Whereupon  I  gave  up  all  thought  <tf 
fighting  sea-sickness  any  longer,  having  had  two  or  three  sharp  coih- 
tests  with  it  before  this  unexpected  defeat ;  and,  retreating  into  thft 
cabin,  and  ridding  myself  of  my  wet  garments,  threw  myself  down  {ft 
my  berth,  indiffcTent  to  everything  but  the  incessant  and  nauseating 
motion  of  the  uneasy  vessel.  Nor  did  I  care  to  lift  my  head  till  we 
entered  and  were  gliding  over  the  placid  waters  of  the  Bay  of  Naples* 
We  arrived  in  the  Bay  of  Naples  at  four,  A.  M.,  in  the  stean^ 
er  Languedoc ;  but  did  not  get  ashore,  and  through  the  custoOK 
house  and  the  searching  of  its  officials,  till  12,  M.,  when  we  fouvA 
ourselves  comfortably  quartered  in  the  Hotel  de  Rome.  The  ni^i 
was  stormy.  The  wind,  which  blew  violently  a^  we  left  the  mole  at 
Civita  Vecchia,  continued  through  the  voyage  unabated.  The  tumuli 
of  the  waves  soon  deprived  me  of  all  ability  to  move  about,  and  I  had 
to  give  way  br  hours  to  the  distress  of  sickness,  confining  myself  to 
my  berth.  But,  after  having  partaken  of  some  nourishment,  upon 
our  arrival  at  the  Hotel,  I  felt  ready,  by  one  P.  M.,  to  commence 
movements  for  viewing  Naples.  We  first  called  on  our  worthy  consid^ 
Mr.  Hammil,  who  received  us  courteously.  Dr.  H.  had  got  into 
trouble  in  the  custom-house — some  of  his  books,  especially  a  few 
numbers  of  Champollion's  grammar,  excited  great  suspicion,  and  were 
detained  by  the  officials.  A  few  carlini  rescued  mine,  although  among 
them  was  the  ^^Histoire  de  UEgliae  Vaudoise  par  Antoine  Mbnastkr^ 
which  was  far  more  at  war  with  the  rites,  doctrines  and  policy  of  the 
Romish  church,  thai^a^y^^^^S  ^  ^  found  in  ChampoUion,  or  in  Hk 


]£[«^  collection.  They  had  no  hieroglyphics,  however,  to  exdte  4iB 
VOspicioQs  and  fears  of  tho  terror-stricken  menials  of  a  base  deq>aft» 
liBSt  blood  and  treason  lurked  under  them. 

Afler  leaving  the  Consul,  who  promised  to  look  after  the  detainad 
books,  we  ascended,  under  the  conduct  of  a  guide,  the  lofty  hill  tbst 
tises  immediately  back  of  the  city — on  whose  sloping  sides  it  is  built, 
The  castle  of  St.  £rmo,  so  named  from  a  chapel  near  it  dedicated  to 
St.  Erasmus,  crowns  one  of  the  summits  of  this  hill,  and  overlooks  the 
oity.  The  monastery  of  San  Martino  is  a  little  lower  down,  in  front  of 
it^ — to  enter  which  you  must  pass  through  military  guards  statioi^ed 
uround  the  castle.  From  the  balcony  of  this  monastery,  you  have  « 
luperb  panoramic  view  of  Naples  and  the  surrounding  country,  Veao- 
vlus,  Portici,  Resina,  and  Torre  del  Greece  along  its  base,  and  the 
Uland  of  Capri  in  the  splendid  bay  that  spreads  its  bosom  so  calmJIj 
«Dd  majestically  before  the  city. 

The  Castle  of  St.  Elmo  was  originally  a  tower  built  by  the  Nor- 
Sians,  and  converted  into  a  fort  by  Cliarless  11.  Charles  V.  msde  it 
%  <utadel,  and  Philip  V.  added  to  its  works.  It  is  a  Hexagon,  one 
hundred  toises  in  diameter,  with  mines  and  countermines,  and  contains 
%  well  of  immense  size.  The  King  of  Naples  keeps  it  well  garri* 
eoned. 

The  Church  of  San  Martini,  belonging  to  the  monastery,  was 
Dnoe  the  royal  villa  of  Robert,  Duke  of  Anjou,  which  Charles  induced 
kom  to  convejt  into  a  sacred  building.  In  1325,  a  church  and  monas- 
lery  were  erected  and  richly  endowed  by  the  king.  It  is  decorated 
with  paintings,  marble  work,  precious  stones  and  gilt  stucco.  The 
altars  in  its  chapels  are  decorated  with  costly  marbles,  verde  and  joaoe 
antique,  breccia,  porphyry,  etc.,  and  precious  stones,  such  as  ame- 
Ihysts,  agates,  lapis  lazuli,  etc.  Its  paintings  are  large  and  greatl/ 
l^ed.  One,  called  "  the  deposition,"  or  taking  Christ  down  from 
ibe  Cross,  containing  the  figures  of  the  Virgin,  St.  John,  and  St.  Bra> 
IKS  is  generally  much  admired.  An  English  Lord,  we  were  told  b/ 
ihe  guide,  lately  offered  for  it  as  many  gold  sovereigns  as  would  cover 
it ;  but  it  was  refused.  It  is  said  to  be  two  hundred  and  fifty  yeaci 
old.  I  noticed  near  it  portraits  of  Moses  and  Elias,  well  executed 
pun  tings.  On  either  side  of  the  altar  are  nitches  or  cases,  highlj 
fidorned,  and  closed  in  with  glass  doors,  through  which  are  to  be  seen, 
nagged  on  shelves  or  supports,  human  bones  interlaced  with  jewek. 
Hie  bones  are  exhibited  as  tho  veritable  relics  of  ancient  saints,  whoee 
i^mes  are  attached.  It  was  to  me  a  disgusting  sight,  notwithstanding 
ibey  were  so  arranged  and  decorated  with  glittering  gems  and  wodL 
tf  gold,  as  to  make  a  di^Uy  at  some  distance,  as  of  filagree  work  «0- 


0  Mnftll  Bcaie.  The  court  of  die  monasterj  wfts  divided  into  four 
lajSgd  pfurts  or  beda^  one  of  which  was  used  as  n  cemetery  for  th# 
monks,  in  which  a  recent  interment  had  taken  place ;  the  other  three 
«Qi:e  used  for  the  cultivation  of  lavendar,  which  seemed  to  grow  in 
ithem  very  luxuriantly.  The  dress  of  the  monks  was  diat  of  white 
fobes  re8em.bling  flannel.  Their  heads  were  wholly  shaven,  but  their 
Jieards  were  allowed  to  grow.  It  is  a  yery  wealthy  establishment^ 
end  supports  numerous  monks-  Immense  expenditures  have  been 
made  in  the  mosaic  and  polished  pavements,  and  other  costly  decom- 
^ns  of  the  Church  and  its  chapels.  A  crowd  of  idle  drones  are 
^H^pprted  there,  who  render  no  service  whatever  to  society,  and  whose 
only  value  is  claimed  to  be  the  recital  of  prayers  for  the  benefit  of 
Ihe  Church  and  souls  in  Purgatory.  What  a  perversion  of  the  reU' 
gion  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  went  about  doing  good  I 

October  28th, — ^Visited  the  Church  of  St.  Januarius.  It  is  of  tto 
order  of  the  Jesuits,  and  one  of  the  principal,  if  not  the  most  impotr- 
ianty  of  the  ecclesiastical  edifices  in  Naples.  It  is  the  cathedral,  and 
the  theatre  of  some  of  the  grossest  impositions  which  popery  knows 
liow  80  adroitly  to  practice  on  the  superstitious  credulity  of  her  vot»> 
xks.  At  the  hour  I  visited  it^  the  bishop  was  performing  mass,  and 
the  canons,  with  the  choir,  were  in  their  places,  taking  part  in  the 
fSbsmting.  The  organ  was  over  it,  and  formed  a  part,  as  it  were^  of  the 
main  altar.  Like  all  other  large  edifices  for  papal  worship,  it  contaior 
^  a  variety  of  different  chapels,  one  of  which  is  specially  distin- 
goished.  It  stands  on  the  site  and  ruins  of  an  ancient  temple  dedicate4 
by  Pagan  idolaters  to  Apollo,  and  is  itself  dedicated  to  St.  Restitutaw 
^,  tianuarius  is  the  great  patron  saint  of  Naples,  who  is  honored  with 
iq^eecial  and  signal  tokens  of  worshipful  respect.  It  is  in  the  chapel 
tbftt  bears  his  name,  the  lying  wonder  of  liquifying  his  blood  takes 
place.  The  legend  concerniug  him  is,  thkt  he  was  beheaded  at  Naplea, 
A.  D.  289,  during  the  Pagan  persecution  waged  against  the  earlj 
Christians,  by  the  Emperor  Domiti^n.  I  copied  the  following  inscrip- 
tion over  the  entrance  to  this  chapel :  ''  Divi  Januarii  e  fame,  beU» 
fieete  a  yesagline  miri  ope  sanguinis  erepta  Neapolis  cive,  patre^ 
:«&ndice.'* 

There  was  a  priest  celebrating  mass  at  one  of  the  altars  in  thia 
ehapol,  and  at  the  same  time  services  were  being  performed  at  die 
miiin  altar  in  the  church.  Intimation  being  given  of  a  desire  to  inspect 
(heir  chapel  and  its  sacristy,  a  priest  was  soon  in  attendance  for  the 
purpose.  Some  six  large  and  very  fine  paintings,  adorn  its  altSMi 
aisrtfiged  on  the  sides  of  the  octagon,  in  which  form  the  chapel  is  ooQr 
sfimoted.    A  jervitor  was  eonuaanded  to  raise  the  eartains,  wfaibh  aea 


§H  HonsB  09  lomeir  tbavsl    - 

dropped  oyer  them  for  bettor  proteetion  and  preservation.  We 
riiown  all,  except  the  one  before  which  the  priest  was  imme  jiatelf 
officiating,  and  that  also  we  saw  after  he  had  withdrawn.  These 
paintings  represent  different  scenes  or  events  in  the  life  o(  JanoarinSi 
such  as  the  multitude  affected  with  horror  on  beholding  him  escfl^ 
imhurt  from  the  flames  into  which  he  had  been  cast — his  martyrdom 
by  actual  beheading — ^his  miraculously  healing  the  sick,  etc,  etc  A 
closet  behind  one  of  the  altars,  they  tell  you,  contains  his  head  and 
two  vials  of  his  blood.  It  has  two  silver  doors,  which  are  lodged  by 
two  different  keys,  one  being  kept  by  the  King  and  the  other  by  the 
Bishop.  His  body,  they  say,  reposes  beneath  the  high  altar,  in  a  sar- 
cophagus, covered  with  arabesque  bas  relief.  Tluice  a  year  the  relics 
of  his  blood  are  produced,  the  King  and  Bishop  being  present  and 
concurring,  viz :  during  the  first  eight  days  of  May  and  September, 
and  on  the  16th  day  of  December,  which  last  is  the  day  of  this  saint's 
anniversary  festival.  On  this  occasion  the  wondering  multitude  gather 
to  witness  the  miraculous  liqui&ction  of  the  blood  in  the  vial.  'Raekt 
joy  is  said  to  be  excessive  when  this  effect  takes  place  speedily,  but 
their  lamentations  are  incessant  if  the  process  be  tedious.  It  is  rda- 
ted  as  an  historical  fact,  that  while  the  French  General  Murat  was 
King  of  Naples,  the  priests  who  were  displeased  with  his  sovereignty, 
were  disposed  to  excite  the  apprehensions  and  alarms  of  the  populace 
by  retarding  the  process  of  liquifaction,  and  thus  producing  the 
impression  that  this  ^*  Mahuzrim,"  (see  Daniel,  xi.,  48,)  the  tutelary 
and  patron  saint  of  Naples,  had  withdrawn  his  protction  from  the 
dty.  Hearing  of  the  excitement  and  the  consternation  produced,  and 
miderstanding  the  reason  of  the  tardiness  of  the  miracle,  that  intrepid 
warrior  sent  word  to  the  priests,  that  they  should  be  held  responsible 
for  any  mischief  from  the  excited  fears  of  the  people,  if  the  miracle 
was  not  speedily  consummated — ^which  had  the  efiect  very  speedily  to 
liquify  the  inspissated  blood. 

The  chapel  of  St  Januarius  is  very  rich,  and  on  these  oocauonsi, 
extravagantly  ornamented.  It  contains  seven  altars  and  forty-two 
brocatello  columns  of  the  Corinthian  order.  Between  them  are 
bronze  statues  and  busts,  representing  the  holy  protectors,  ^  the  gods 
of  forces;"  and  niches  beneath  the  busts.  Some  thirty-seven  lai^  silver 
images  of  saints  are  arranged  with  other  striking  ornaments,  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  chapel ;  and  candelabra,  also  of  a  splendid  character, 
give  the  place  a  most  striking  and  dazzling  appearance.  A  large 
bronze  statue  of  Januarius  himself  is  placd  over  the  high  altar,  and 
above  the  closet  with  silver  doors,  in  which  they  tell  you  are  the  head 
and  vials  of  coagnlated  blood,  said  to  have  been  colleoted  at  his  mar* 


GBURCQ  OF  QJSSKJ  KUOYO.  •!• 


tyrdom  some  fifteen  hundred  and  sixty-three  years  ago,  by  a  pious 
Iroman  of  Naples.  The  high  altar  of  this  chapel  is  a  block  of  por* 
phyry,  intersected  and  adorned  with  silver  cornices  and  gilt  bronze. 
On  the  great  ''fete  "  days,  silver  candlesticks,  silver  vases  of  flowers, 
a  cross  of  lapis  lazuli,  and  a  silver  throne  and  tabernacles  for  the  host ; 
and  an  assemblage  or  brilliant  display  of  candles  and  lamps  are  pro- 
duced, to  give  dazzling  effect  to  this  pompous  "  Lying  Wonder,"  on 
which  the  superstitious  idolatrous  multitude  of  Naples  believe  turns 
the  weal  or  the  woe  of  their  city. 

I  saw,  and  handled,  and  tested  the  weight  of  these  silver  saints,  and 
found  them  hollow.  In  many,  or  most  of  them,  I  noticed  small  cases 
or  niches,  covered  with  glass,  in  which  were  little  pieces  of  human  bones 
with  printed  labels,  from  the  bones  of  St.  Joseph,  St.  Mary  Magdalene, 
St.  John  the  Baptist,  St.  Ignatius,  St.  Augustine,  Santa  Clara,  and  oth- 
ers, whose  names  I  did  not  care  to  minute  down.  Poor  John  the 
Baptist,  how  his  remains  are  scattered  about!  According  to  the 
showing  of  these  worshippers  of  relics,  his  head  is  in  Turin,  his 

body  in  Genoa,  and  here,  in  Naples,  are  some  of  his  bones.  His 
right  hand   had  been   in  Constantinople,  but  w^as   given,   by  the 

Sultan,  Bajazet,  to  the  Grand  Master,  D'Aubersson,  in  Malta,  to 
bribe  him  to  betray  his  brother  Tlgim,  who  had  taken  refuge 
with  the  Knights  of  Rhodes ;  but  which  Bonaparte  robbed  of  its  soli- 
taire of  briliants  to  put  it  on  his  own  finger,  and  then  left  the  other 
part  of  the  relic  with  the  Grand  Master  Hopesch,  in  the  Island  of 
Malta,  where  it  still  remains !  But  all  these  things  help  the  swindling 
practices  of  those  who  make  merchandise  of  the  souls  of  men. 

The  Church  of  Gesu  Nuovo,  or  Trinita,  is  one  of  the  principal 
places  of  papal  worship  in  Naples.  It  has  eleven  altars  in  its  various 
chapels,  one  of  which,  that  of  St  Giorlano,  has  been  distinguished  by 
the  present  Pope,  in  consideration^  and  as  a  memorial,  of  his  own  visit 
to  it,  April  27tfa,  1849,  by  a  notice  on  a  printed  placard,  of  full  indul* 
gence  for  three  hundred  days  being  granted  to  every  one  who  should 
visit  it.  Whether  such  heretics  as  myself  and  my  companions  are 
included  in  the  benefits  of -this  signal  act  of  favor  from  his  holiness  or 
not,  I  know  not,  nor  cared  to  inquire,  being  perfectly  satisfied  that  the 
poor  fugitive  who  so  ingloriously  deserted  his  palace  and  capitol,  and 
the  cathedral  where  it  is  claimed  they  have  the  chair  of  Peter,  has  no 
power  or  benefits  of  a  religious  nature  to  extend  to  any  one,  and  that 
the  whole  system  is  a  tissue  of  mendicity  and  mendacity.  Th« 
Lord  save  my  country  from  being  imposed  upon  by  its  pretonsions  to 
be  the  Church  of  Christ 

The  Church  ef  Santa  Chura  excels  it^  howeTer,  in  many  respeda 


»i»^''^— »-^— ^— »— »-^— ^— ^~»«  ■  .III       m^m^m—  -j^J^M^^K^^^^^^^— ^M^^^— ^^^ 

■  I  ■!  ^-.—^mt^a^mm 

If  ooQtains  the  tombs  of  several  royal  and  illustrious  persons,  and  two* 
remarkable  columns,  which  the  authorities  declare  once  ocenpieJ  pli^ 
om  in  Solomon's  Temple.    They  are  now  used  as  candelabra,  and 
stand  on  either  side  of  the  main  altar.     On  the  pedestal  of  one  is  w 
h$S9  relief  of  Melchisedec,  offering  bread  and  wine  to  Abraham  when 
he  returned  from  the  slaughter  of  the  kings;  and  on  the  oliher,  of 
Abraham's  offering  up  his  son  Isaac     Like  all  the  chief  churches  iii 
Roman  Catholic  cities,  its  ornaments  are  very  splendid  and  costly. 
There  is  a  convent  connected  with  it,  which  contains  from  four  to  five 
hundred  nuns.     In  both  the  short  transepts  of  this  church,  and  around 
both  sides  of  the  Nave,  are  galleries  concealed  by  lattice^work,  behind 
which  these  female  recluses  may  enter  and  be  present  during  tha 
ritual  services,  the  nearest  point  of  their  approach  to  the  world,  whi<^ 
they  claim  to  have  renounced,  by  immuring  themselves  in  a  conventy 
as  though  that  were  in  the  letter  and  spirit  par  excellence,  obedience 
to  the  divine  command  to  *'  come  out  from  the  world  and  be  sepa- 
rate."    The   royal  family  of  Naples  have  made  Uiis  churdi  thellr 
cemetery. 

The  Chapel  of  Pauli  de  Sangro  San  Scvero  Principis,  attached  to 
the  palace  of  a  distinguished  noble  family,  is  appropriated  exclusively 
as  a  cemetery  for  its  members,  and  has  ceased  to  be  ueed  for  religious 
services.  I  noticed  before  one  of  the  altars  in  this  chapel,  a  piece  of 
statuary,  exhibiting  the  wonderful  power  of  the  chisel  and  the  skill 
of  the  artist.  It  is  designed  to  represent  the  corpse  of  the  Saviour, 
aifter  having  been  taken  from  the  cross,  laid  out  and  prepared  for  inter- 
ment. The  main  excellence  and  peculiarity  of  this  statue,  ^consists  in 
the  successfnl  attempt  of  the  sculptor  to  exhibit  in  marble  the  per- 
son in  death,  as  covered  with  a  shroud,  and  a  thin  veil  thrown  over 
the  face,  which  conceals  not  the  features  or  expression.  TTie  work- 
manship is  truly  wonderful.  .  I  observed  a  striking  resemblance  in  the 
futures  and  expression,  to  those  of  the  beautiful  statue  representing 
the  body  of  the  dead  Saviour  resting  on  the  lap  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
which  I  had  noticed  in  the  crypt  below  the  Corsini  Chapel,  or  that  of 
Clement  XII.,  in  Rome.  Indeed,  I  have  been  struck  with  a  general 
and  remarkable  resemblance  in  all  the  nfiore  finished  productions  of 
the  chisel  of  this  description,  in  a  few  admirable  paintings,  and  in 
some  prized  and  costly  cameos,  as  though  they  all  had  the  same  origi- 
nal, or  were  copies  of  one  and  the  same  ancient  production.  On 
Inquiring  into  this  thing,  and  expressing  my  surprise  at  the  drcuni- 
stance,  I  was  made  acquainted  with  a  traditionary  history,  accredited 
by  many  in  Rome,  as  religiously  true,  and  the  solution  of  this  circuni- 
■tanoe.    The  story  is,  that  Pilate,  shortly  before  the  Savionr'a  cmd- 


MtJSBTTM  OF  PAINTINGS.  sJt 

fidon,  being  deeply  impressed  with  the  sweetness  and  beauty  of  hit 
iilgenuous  and  lovely  countenance,  employed  an  artist  to  take  a  portndt 
of  him — ^that  copies  of  that  portrait  had  been  afterwards  taken  in 
cam^o,  and  that  one  especially,  the  property  of  the  pope,  had  been 
preserved  with  great  care  in  the  Vatican,  which  cameo  had  been  the 
model  or  admired  cast  from  which  these  splendid  copies  hsA  he&k 
tdken,  combining  all  of  beauty,  sweetness,  intelligence,  innocence, 
virtue,  and  transparent  purity,  benevolence,  and  yet  manliness,  that 
could  be  exhibited  in  the  form,  features,  and  expression  of  the  counter 
nance  of  a  young  man  of  some  thirty  to  thirty-five  yeai-s  of  age.  I 
give  the  story  as  1  got  it,  regarding  it  myself  as  one  only  of  the  many 
like  legends  which  popery  finds  it  ever  easy  to  bring  forth  from  her 
treasury  of  marvels. 

Having  visited  the  churches  above  named,  we  passed  to  the  museum 
of  paintings. 

The  child  and  his  guardian  angel,  by  Domennichini,  the  repose  m 
Egypt,  by  Corregio,  and  St.  John  the  Baptist,  a  shepherd  youth  of 
fifteen,  and  in  perfect  nudity,  by  Guido,  principally  attracted  my  attea- 
tiOfl,  as  specimens  of  art.  There  was  in  one  of  the  halls,  a  copy  of 
Michael  Angel o's  judgment,  and  of  the  marriage  of  the  infant  Chrisfc 
with  St.  Catharine.  This  last  picture  seems  to  be  a  favorite.  It  is 
certainly  a  very  strange  picture  to  be  preserved,  and  respected,  by 
the  votaries  of  a  religion  which  forbids  its  priests  to  marry.  Impiotw 
as  is  to  me  the  picture  in  its  pretensions,  I  could  not  help  thinkings 
that  there  was  a  gross  inconsistency  in  the  Romish  celibacy,  when 
they  preserve  memorials  of  the  Saviour* a  marriage,  and'  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  Peter,  their  idolized  saint,  had  a  wife.  But  consistency 
is  not  to  be  expected  in  this  Babel  of  corruption. 

The  picture  of  the  marriage  of  the  Saviour  to  St.  Catharine,  repre^ 
sents  the  infant  Christ  on  the  knees  of  the  Y^"^^"*  while  she  is  assisting 
the  child  to  put  the' wedding  ring  upon  the  finger  of  his  bride.  It  has 
been  denied  in  the  United  States,  by  apologists  for  the  Romish  idola^ 
try,  that  such  impious  pictures  had  ever  existed,  or  were  honored. 
Bttt  here  you  see  the  proofs  of  the  debasing  influence  of  this  demoral- 
ising religion.  I  noticed  a  very  beautiful  painting,  by  Raphad^ 
ctdled  "  the  holy  family,"  in  which  John  the  Baptist,  and  Christ,  «pe 
represented  as  boys,  and  the  virgin  putting  her  hand  on  the  Baptisti^ 
head,  while  he  is  kissing  Christ.  As  a  painting,  disconnected  from  its 
idolotrous  uses,  it  comended  itself  greatly. 

Leaving  the  picture  halls,  we  passed  to  the  museum  of  antiquities 
from  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  and  took  a  view  of  the  statuary. 
Hie  statue  of  Hercules,  and  the  Famese  Bull,  are  admirable  works  of 


1 


hU  NOTES  OF  FORESON  TRAYEL 

art.  The  relios  in  this  museum  possess  deep  interest,  furnishing,  as 
Aey  do,  such  perfect  specimens  of  the  life  of  the  inhabitants,  of  those 
nicked  cities,  so  many  centuries  since  overwhelmed  with  destruction. 
m>ere  is  another  museum  in  this  city,  where  are  preserved  the  memo- 
nalB  of  corrupt  life  in  Pompeii,  and  representations  of  things  too 
diocking  to  modesty  to  be  even  named.  Formerly  it  was  open  to 
privileged  visitors,  but  the  present  Pope,  who  entered  this  museum 
when  in  Naples,  during  his  flight  from  Rome^  was  so  shocked  at  what 
%&  saw,  that  he  required  the  king  to  have  the  doors  forever  closed. 
No  person  now  can  obtain  access  to  it,  nor  have  the  doors  ever  since 
Ibeen  unlocked.  I  honor  greatly  Pio  Nono^s  sense  of  propriety,  and 
libe  exercise  of  his  authority  in  this  way. 

We  concluded  dtir  visits  for  the  day,  with  an  entrance  into  the  Oata- 
dombs.  They  are  immense  excavations,  in  the  rock  of  which  the 
kill  to  the  north  and  west  of  Naples  consists.  You  enter  them  from 
the  rear  of  an  hospital,  founded  by  private  munificence,  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  aged  and  infirm.  These  excavations  are  much  larger  than 
tihose  of  Rome — that  is,  wider  and  more  lofly.  Like  the  latter,  they 
are  excavated  in  three  stories,  but  they  are  by  no  means  as  extensive. 
The  bodies  of  the  common  people,  who  died  by  the  plague,  and  were 
lot  interred  by  their  friends,  were  cast  into,  and  it  is  said,  filled  the 
)pweat  story. 

A  tunnel  for  a  railroad  has  obstructed  the  passage  into  these  cata- 
combs, so  that  it  is  only  a  small  part  of  them,  comparatively,  you 
«ui  enter.  They  are  said  to  extend  some  six  miles  into  the  body  of 
the  hill. 

Here,  they  tell  us,  the  body  of  their  tutelar  saint,  Januarius,  was 
first  buried,  when  the  city  of  Naples  got  possession  of  his  relics. 
Xhe  Normans  removed  them  thence,  but  in  1497  they  wei'e  brought 
back.  The  people  of  Naples  ascribe  many  preservations  to  the  care 
of  this  saint — especially  thai  from  the  fiery  eruptions  of  Mount  Vesu- 
vius. A  large  and  finely  executed  statue  of  this  saint,  stands  in  a 
shapel  on  the  centre  of  the  bridge  as  you  pass  out  of  Naples,  on  the 
way  to  Vesuvius,  which  with  hand  outstretched  and  face  directed  toward 
tlie  fiery  mount,  seems  to  forbid  its  devastations.  So  the  Neapolitana 
Ibelieve.  Poor  superstitious  idolators !  How  degrading  the  thought 
that  a  lifeless,  marble  memorial  of  a  dead  man,  could  prove  a  barrier 
gainst  the  ravages  of  earthquakes  and  voloanos ! 


CARAVAN  JOURNEY 

OF   FORTY   DAYS 

ACROSS  THE  LONG  DESERT. 


BT  WARBBK  ISHAU. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

On  the  third  day  from  Sinai,  as  we  neared  the  gulph  of  Akaba,  the 
scenery  presented  an  aspect  of  the  wildest  grandeur  and  sublimity. 
For  the  greatest  part  of  the  day,  we  went  creeping  along  the  narrow 
defile  beneath  the  ledges,  which  shot  up  their  heads  sometimes  to  a 
height  apparently  of  two  or  three  thousand  feet  above  us.  Then  the 
defile  expanded,  here  and  there,  into  amphitheatres,  whose  walls  seemed 
to  sustain  the  very  arch  of  heaven,  and  which  were  entered  and  left 
by  passes  which  no  human  eye  could  detect  a  few  rods  distant.  The 
rocks  were  of  different  colors,  and  intersected,  by  metallic  veins. 

"  Like  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land."  None  can  under- 
stand the  significancy  and  force  of  this  beautiful  allusion  who  have  not 
traveled  in  the  parched  and  treeless  desert,  exposed  to  the  heat  of  a 
burning  sun.  Often,  when  wilted  down  at  mid-day,  have  I  been  re- 
freshed beneath  the  shadow  of  a  "  great  rock"  by  tne  wayside,,  and 
then  resumed  my  journey  with  renewed  vigor.  During  a  portion  of 
the  day,  so  intense  is  the  heat  from  the  direct  and  reflected  rays  of  the 
sun,  as  to  induce  a  sense  of  languor  and  fatigue,  which  could  scarcely  be 
endured,  but  for  the  refreshing  coolness  of  these  welcome  retreats. 

The  heat  here  of  course  is  more  intense  than  in  the  open  desert,  as 
it  is  reflected  from  the  rocky  mountain  sides,  on  either  hand,  as 
well  as  from  the  sand  and  stones  beneath.  But  this  I  suppose  to  be 
the  geographical  distinction  between  this  and  ordinary  deserts.  Those 
who  understand  the  geography  of  the  earth,  need  not  be  informed  that 
the  northern  portion  of  Arabia,  embracing  this  peninsula,  is  denomina- 
ted Arabia  Petrea,  or  Rocky  Arabia ;  the  more  central  portion,  Arabia 
Deserta — Desert  Arabia — ^and  the  southern  portion,  Arabia  Felix,  or 
**  Happy."  The  distinction  between  Arabia  Petrea  and  Arabia  De- 
.  serta,  I  suppose  to  be,  that  the  latter  is  a  wide  waste  of  sand  heaps,  and 
bare  flinty  plains,  with  perhaps  occasional  ledges ;  while  this  consists 
of  a  constant  succession  of  rocky  heights,  alternating  with  barren  inter- 

TOL.  1   HO.  XII.— B5. 


046  OA&AYAN  JOUBNET. 


vales.  The  qualifying  term  Felix,  or  ^'  Happy,"  as  applied  to  soutlip 
em  Arabia,  implies  fruitfulness  of  soil,  at  oontrasted  with  tiie  barren- 
ness of  the  two  other  divisions. 

And  not  only  is  the  reflection  of  the  heat  greater  from  the  rocky 
heights,  among  which  ^  the  weary"  traveler  winds  his  way  in  Arabia 
Petrea,  than  in  an  open  desert,  but  the  circulation  of  the  air  is  mudi 
interfered  with,  and  often  entirely  obstructed.  In  many  situations, 
not  a  breath  of  air  sheds  its  reviving  influence  upon  the  drooping  spirit, 
whereas,  in  an  open  desert,  there  is  nothing  to  obstruct  its  circulation. 

At  the  same  time,  these  heights  afford  protection  from  those  fearful 
blasts — ^the  simoons — ^which  sweep  over  the  open  desert  with  su<}h  deso- 
lating effect.  Not  only  do  they  break  the  force  of  t^e  winds  and 
neutralize  their  power,  but  the  moveable  sands  at  their  disposal  are 
much  less  abundant,  and  often  almost  entirely  wanting. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  narrow  intervales  which  wind  about  between  the 
ledges  and  rugged  peaks,  as  presenting  the  aspect  of  deserted  river 
channels,  and  looking  as  though  they  had  recently  been  swept  by 
mighty  torrents.  I  learn  that  they  have  abundance  of  rain  here  through 
all  this  region  during  the  winter  months,  but  at  no  other  time.  Hie 
Greek  priest  at  Sinai,  who  is  quite  an  intelligent  man,  told  me  that 
the  climate  in  this  respect  is  precisely  similar  to  that  of  Greece,  and 
most  parts  of  the  south  of  Europe.  It  is  wonderful  indeed  that  there 
should  be  so  great  a  difference,  in  this  regard,  upon  the  two  sides  of 
the  Red  Sea,  which  is  so  narrow  as  to  be  seen  across.  I  noticed  no 
appearance  of  rain  upon  the  other  side  of  it,  whereas  the  inclined  plain 
which  intervenes  between  the  mountains  and  the  sea,  on  this  side,  is 
cut  up  with  channels  at  frequent  intervals,  which  have  been  plowed  by 
the  waters,  as  they  came  rushing  down  from  the  mountain  heights,  in 
their  progress  to  the  sea. 

I  often  find  the  surface  of  beds  of  sand,  which  have  been  drenched 
with  rain,  baked  hard,  to  the  depth  of  several  inches,  which  shows,  I 
think,  the  presence  of  calcarious  matter,  which  has  thus  been  reduced 
to  a  state  of  solution. 

At  night  I  encamped  on  the  western  shore  of  the  Gulf  of  Akabai 
which  is  the  eastern  arm  of  the  Red  Sea.  The  beach,  along  which 
we  now  journeyed,  was  strewn  thick  with  sea  shells,  many  of  them 
more  beautiful  than  any  I  had  ever  seen  before.  Our  way  was  a  nar- 
row one.^  Sometimes  we  were  crowded  into  the  sea  to  get  around 
a  ledge,  and  once  or  twice  we  had  to  climb  the  rocky  heights,  and 
then  descend  to  the  beach  again,  as  our  only  alternative. 

This  arm  of  the  Red  Sea,  like  the  other,  is  a  very  beautiful  sheet 
of  water,  dear  and  pellucid  to  its  greatest  depths,  even  when  lashed 


THB  DBSEBT  HOLY,  EZIONGEBEB.  541 

into  farj  by  the  tempest.  I  should  judge  it  to  be  from  four  to  six 
miles  across.  Two  days*  travel  along  its  margin  brought  us  to 
Akaba,  at  its  head. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

We  were  now  fairly  across  the  rocky  peninsula  of  Sinai,  after  fifteen 
days'  travel  (from  Suez  to  Akaba),  a  portion  of  the  earth,  the  owner- 
ship of  which  has  never  yet  been  claimed  by  any  human  being.  The 
Greek  priest  at  Sinai,  mentioned  this  fact  to  me  as  a  reason  why  it 
should  be  regarded  as,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  God's  country.  Here,  he 
said,  God  had  ever  remained  sole  and  exclusive  proprietor,  and  here 
he  had  made  varied  and  wonderful  displays  of  his  glory,  as,  in  the 
burning  bush,  dividing  the  Hed  Sea.  in  his  descent  upon  Sinai,  passing 
before  Elijah  in  the  cave,  in  the  pillar  of  fire  and  of  the  cloud,  bring- 
ing rain  from  the  smitten  rock,  and  in  his  forty  years  of  daily  miracles 
in  behalf  of  Israel.  It  seemed  dear  to  him,  that  there  was  thus  some- 
thing peculiarly  sacred  and  divine  pertaining  to  this  desolate  region. 
How  far  the  fact,  that  nobody  has  yet  ever  been  willing  to  accept  the 
ownership  of  land  here,  ought  to  impair  this  devout  impression,  I 
shall  not  undertake  to  say.  The  scattered  nomadie  tribes  migrate 
from  place  to  place,  with  their  flocks,  as  their  necessities  require — the 
usual  cause  being  exhausted  herbage. 

And  here  I  am  at  Akaba,  the  site  of  Eziongeber,  the  famous  port 
of  Solomon,  which  was  "  upon  the  shore  of  the  Red  Sea,  in  the  land 
of  Edom^^  and  from  which  his  ships  departed  "  once  in  three  years," 
fer  the  land  of  Ophir. 

But  where  was  Ophir  ? — is  a  question  which  has  puzzled  the  wisest 
heads  Because  the  ships  departed  only  "  once  in  three  years,"  it  is 
inferred  that  it  must  have  been  a  far  off  country,  outside  the  straits  of 
Babelmandeb,  and  away  somewhere  in  the  East  Indies. 

But  for  this  equivocal  expression,  "  once  in  three  years,"  there 
would  have  been  no  difficulty  at  all  in  identifying  "  the  land  of  Ophir  " 
with  Ethiopia  (only  a  few  hundred  miles  distant),  as  this  latter  coun- 
try was  &med  for  the  productions  which  were  brought  to  Solomon, 
both  by  his  own  ships,,  and  by  the  queen  of  the  South,  as  gold  and 
silver,  spices,  precious  stones,  ivory,  apes,  peacocks'  feathers,  etc. 

This  difficulty,  however,  may  be  more  apparent  than  real.  It  is  not 
said,  that  the  ships  were  absent  three  years,  but  that  they  embarked 
once  in  three  years. 

But  this  arm  of  the  Bed  Sea  is  so  shoal  that  none  but  small  craft 


648  GABAVAK  JOURNEY. 


can  navigate  it  at  all,  and  it  ia  by  no  means  probable  that  it  could  ever 
have  been  navigated  by  vessels  large  enough  and  stout  enough  to  stand 
a  three  years'  voyage  upon  the  ocean.  And,  besides,  the  shipe 
brought  ''almug  trees,"  but,  that  timber  should  be  brought  from. 
such  a  distant  country,  for  building  purposes,  is  preposterous  to  sup- 
pose. I  would  sooner  suppose  that  the  crew  were  three  years  in 
collecting  the  cargo,  than  that  the  ships  passed  the  Straits. 

It  may  be  added,  that  there  seems  to  be  a  strong  probability, 
that  the  curiosity  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  or  of  the  South,  was  excited 
by  the  accounts  she  had  from  the  persons  sent  in  Solomon's  ships. 
"  When  she  heard  of  the  fame  of  Solomon,  she  came  to  prove  him." 

From  Eziongeber  to  Jerusalem,  the  materials  thus  imported  were 
transported  upon  camels,  the  caravans  consuming  eight  days  by  the 
shortest  rout 

Eziongeber  seems  to  have  been  supplanted  by  Elath,  which  was 
still  flourishing  in  the  time  of  the  Romans.  In  rambling  over  the 
site  of  these  ancient  Jewish  towns,  I  have  picked  up  a  most  singular 
fragment  of  a  vessel,  which  must  have  been  moulded  on  a  potter's 
wheel,  but  resembles  granite  in  hardness  and  general  appearance. 

.As  a  site  for  a  town,  this  can  scarcely  be  surpassed — arising  gently, 
as  it  does,  from  the  head  of  the  gulf,  and  overlooking  its  silvery 
expanse,  flanked  on  either  hand  by  precipitous  heights.  It  is  partly 
occupied  by  the  Arab  village,  Akaba,  which  is  skirted  by  a  palm 
grove. 

OHAPTBR  Vin. 

Here  ends  my  contract  with  the  Sheik  Salim,  and  I  now  come  under 
the  protection  of  the  great  Sheik,  Houssein,  who  has  sons  seventy  or 
eighty  years  old,  but  who  is  yet  as  vigorous  as  the  most  athletic  of 
his  grand  children,  now  at  the  age  of  fifby,  or  his  great  grand-children 
at  the  age  of  thirty.  He  is  the  terror  of  the  desert,  the  most  power- 
ful of  the  modem  "  dukes  of  Edom,"  and,  at  the  head  of  a  tribe  so 
numerous  and  war-like  as  to  inspire  all  other  tribes  with  a  dread  of 
his  power.  He  even  hurls  defiance  at  the  Pacha  of  Egypt,  and 
pilgrim  caravans,  on  their  way  to  the  tomb  of  the  Prophet,  have  to 
propitiate  his  favor  by  presents,  or  (good  Mohammedan  as  he  is),  he 
attacks  and  plunders  them  without  mercy.  He  is  rich — ^partly  from 
plunder,  and  partly  from  camel-breeding — and  can  furnish  camels 
enough  to  send  forward  an  army.  In  stature  he  is  not  large,  but  he 
has  an  eye  like  an  eagle,  a  countenance  set  as  a  flint,  and  a  voice  and 
manner  which  mark  him  as  no  ordinary  man.    He  is  generous,  hospi* 


SHEIKS»  THEIB  CFARAOTEB.  549 

table,  and  kind,  magnanimous  and  noble,  sensitive  upon  points  of 
honor,  and  scrupulous  in  matters  of  conscience — is  loved  as  a  father, 
and  revered  as  a  saint,  bj  his  tribe — and  yet,  he  is  a  bandit  and  a  rob- 
ber. Such  is  the  character  of  '^Old  Houssein,"  and  such  I  am 
constrained  to  write  him  down. 

Nor  can  I  dismiss  my  Sheik  Salim,  without  paying  some  tribute  to 
his  memory,  and  I  know  not  how  I  can  better  describe  his  character 
than  by  citing  the  testimonial  1  gave  him  at  parting.  Treacherous 
and  Pithless  to  his  trust,  as  he  knew  himself  to  have  been,  he  yet  had 
the  impudence  to  ask  of  me  a  certificate  in  attestation  of  his  fidelity, 
that  he  might  avail  himself  of  it  to  secure  the  patronage  of  other 
travelers.  I  was  amazed  at  the  fellow's  assurance,  and  hesitated  to 
comply  with  his  request ;  but,  upon  reflection,  I  sat  myself  down  to 
the  task,  and  the  following  testimonial  ran  off  the  point  of  my  pen : 
**  This  is  to  certify,  that  the  Sheik  Salim,  who  entered  into  a  written 
contract  with  me,  before  the  vice-consul  at  Cairo,  to  transport  me, 
with  my  baggage,  upon  camels,  from  that  city  to  Akaba,  has  violated  all 
his  pledges,,  and  is  unworthy  the  slightest  confidence.  Having  persua- 
ded me  to  lay  in  my  stores  as  lightly  as  possible,  upon  pretence  that 
his  camels  (for  whose  services  I  had  paid)  would  be  over-loaded,^he 
made  purchases  of  com,  and  piled  huge  sacks  of  it  upon  them,  saying 
that  it  was  provinder  to  be  consumed  by  the  way ;  but  which,  after  a 
ten  days'  journey  into  the  desert,  he  conveyed  aside,  and  left  at  his 
own  village,  for  his  own  private  use,  in  the  night — ^but  very  little  of  it 
having  been  consumed — and  this  is  but  a  single  instance  of  the  decep- 
tion and  abuse  he  has  practi«ted  upon  me." 

He  received  it  with  evident  tokens  of  satisfaction,  and  doubtless 
many  a  traveler  smiled  as  he  read  it,  without  notifying  him  of  its 
contents.  By  this  time,  he  may  have  learned,  "  that  honesty  is  the 
the^  best  policy." 

These  sheiks  are  shrewd  operators,  and  they  are  not  slow  to  appro- 
priate everything  to  themselves,  while  their  dependents,  who  do  all 
the  drudgery,  are  often  left  to  suffer  for  want.  Men  are  cheap  things 
with  them — their  camels  are  everything,  and  their  men  nothing.  You 
engage  a  given  number  of  camels  at  a  stipulated  price,  say  five  camels 
five  or  six  pounds  sterling  each,  and  you  get  an  armed  attendant 
to  each  camel  gratia.  The  camels  only  are  paid  for,  the  men  are 
thrown  in,  not  of  their  own  free  will,  but  by  the  sheik,  and  thrown  in 
keeping  and  all.  Nor  does  their  keeping  come  out  of  the  sheik.  They 
have  to  keep  themselves ;  but  what  they  live  on  no  mortal  can  telL 
For  many  days  together,  my  attendants  seemed  to  be  entirely  without 
provisions,  and  yet  they  appeared  cheerful,  hale  and  vigorous,  and 


060  CARAVAN  JOHRNBT. 


whence  thej  derived  their  subsistence,  I  could  not  imagine — ^unless 
thej  drew  milk  from  the  camels,  or  watched  their  opportunities  to 
slip  into  the  villages  among  the  ledges,  and  claim  the  rights  of  hospi- 
talitj.  Any  mud  hole,  however  filthy,  sufficed  to  satisfy  their  thirst. 
For  aught  I  could  see,  they  had  all  the  power  of  enduring  the  priva- 
tions of  the  desert  which  the  camel  himself  has. 

I  sometimes  thought,  that  this  throwing  in  gratis,  of  the  services 
of  the  men,  and  magnifying  the  importance  of  the  camels,  at  their 
expense,  was  designed  by  the  sheiks  to  operate  as  a  plea  for  withhold- 
ing from  the  former  their  dues — for  what  could  they  claim,  so  long  as 
the  camels  earned  all  the  money,  and  they  nothing  1 

Their  wants  indeed  are  few,  and  easily  satisfied.  To  this  end  no 
kind  of  manual  labor  is  submitted  to.  That  would  be  an  irreparable 
disgrace  in  their  esteem.  They  look  with  contempt  upon  those  of 
their  own  race  who  settle  down  to  a  life  of  manual  labor  for  a  subsist- 
ence. They  neither  plow,  nor  sow,  nor  reap,  nor  indeed  touch  their 
fingers  to  any  branch  of  productive  industry.  They  simply  brouse 
their  sheep  and  goats,  camels  and  asses,  upon  the  miserable  herbage 
of  the  desert,  breed  camels  for  the  market,  and  use  them  to  transport 
from  adjacent  c(>untries  their  breadstu^,  their  only  necessary,  their 
coffee  and  tobacco,  their  only  luxuries. 

Their  habits  and  mode  of  living,  are  almost  as  simple  as  were  those 
of  ^'  John  the  Baptist,''  and,  like  him,  they  wear  a  leathern  girdle 
about  their  loins,  which  confines  their  loose  dress,  and  they  say,  too, 
that  it  braces  the  muscles  and  strengthens  the  body.  Hence,  I  sup- 
pose, the  scripture  allusion,  "  Gird  up  the  loins  of  your  minds,"  ''Let 
your  loins  be  girt  about  with  truth,"  etc. 

Intoxicating  drinks  have  been  but  little  introduced,  and  are  scarcely 
known  among  them.  To  their  temperate  and  simple  habits  is  doubt- 
less to  be  ascribed  their  robust  constitutions,  their  elasticity  and  vigor. 
They  are  habitually  cheerful,  but  do  not,  like  their  degenerate  breth- 
ren in  Egypt  (as  they  regard  them),  give  expression  to  their  feelings 
in  the  melody  of  song.    They  seldom  sing  at  all. 

Some  of  these  wandering  tribes  are  comparatively  well  ordered 
communities,  subsisting  upon  the  fruits  of  their  pastoral  life,  while 
others  are  professional  robbers. 

This  old  hive  has  sent  out  many  a  swarm  to  overrun  and  scourge 
the  nations — the  most  notable  of  which  was  the  eruption  of  the  Sara- 
cens in  the  seventh  eentury.  They  may  be  found,  at  this  day, 
scattered  over  the  countries  away  through  central  Africa,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  central  Asia  on  the  other,  and  they  are  always  found  in 
squads,  with  a  sheik  at  their  head,  and  are  always  robbers. 


ASSENT  OF  MOUNT  HOB.  651 

CHAPTER  IT. 

Our  next  place  of  destination,  and  the  next  stage  in  our  journey, 
•was  Petra,  by  way  of  Mount  Hor,  And,  having  been  fitted  out 
anew  by  Sheik  Houssein,  all  things  were  now  ready,  and  we  started 
on  our  way,  entering  at  once  a  wide  plain,  or  valley,  called  Waddy 
Husa,  or  "  Valley  of  Moses,"  skirted  on  the  west  and  on  the  east  by 
lofty  mountain  ranges.  This  valley  seemed  to  be  but  an  elongation 
of  the  bed  of  the  Gulf  of  Akaba,  and  continues  northerly,  with  little 
interruption,  all  the  way  to  the  Dead  Sea.  Upon  our  right  towered 
the  craggy  heights  of  Mount  Seir.  There  were  occasional  breaks  in 
it^  and  also  in  the  range  upon  the  western  side  of  the  valley,  through 
which  other  mountain  peaks  could  be  descried,  in  the  blue  distance. 

Two  days  and  a  half  of  travel  brought  us  to  a  rough  rising  ground, 
and  opposite  to  it,  upon  our  right,  rose  a  cluster  of  rugged  mountain 
heights,  in  the  midst  of  which,  and  high  above  them  all,  towered  the 
lolty  summit  of  Mount  Hor,  to  which  Aaron,  the  venerable  High 
Priest  of  Israel,  went  up  to  die,  while  the  hosts  below,  whose  spiritual 
leader  he  had  been  for  forty  years,  gazed  after  him  with  yearning 
solicitude,  as  he  climbed,  with  feeble  footstep,  its  rugged  steeps,  to 
return  to  them  no  more.  Hither  we  directed  our  course,  entering 
and  following  a  winding  defile,  which  was  beautified  by  the  oleander, 
the  popy,  and  a  charming  variety  of  the  pink,  in  full  blossom,  "  wast- 
ing their  sweetness  on  the  desert  air."  Winding  hither  and  thither, 
we  were  brought  to  the  base  of  a  mountain  which  uprose  between  us 
and  Mount  Hor,  and  but  little  inferior  to  it  in  altitude.  The  ascent 
of  this  rough  mountain  height,  and  descent  from  it  to  the  foot  of  Mt. 
Hor,  along  and  between  shelving  rocks,  was  effected  in  safety,  without 
once  dismounting  from  my  camel.  When  part  of  the  way  up,  I  was 
much  amused,  as  well  as  wonder-struck,  to  see  a  fiock  of  wild  goats 
scaling  the  opposite  ledge,  which  was  nearly  perpendicular,  skipping 
from  rock  to  rock,  and  from  cleft  to  cleft,  several  feet,  apparentiy 
right  upward,  at  a  leap,  with  an  agility  and  precision  of  which  I  had  no 
previous  conception.  Flocks  of  tame  goats  and  sheep  were  also  to  be 
seen  here  and  there. 

The  ascent  of  Mount  Hor  was  effected  without  difficulty,  the  sides 

not  being  very  steep.     And  here,  agsun,  we  found  mountain  piled 

upon  mountain,  three  in  succession,  the  topmost  one  appearing,  at  a 

^stance,  like  a  dome.     Upon  the  summit  is  a  stone  building,  with  a 

dome,  which  is  called   "Aaron's  tomb."     The  mountain  itself  is 

called  "  Gebel  Harroun,"  the  mountain  of  Aaron. 

The  view  from  the  summit  is  very  extensive,  variegated  and  sub- 
lime, embracing  the  spacious  valley  we  had  com6  up,  with  the  nobtm- 


652  CARAVAN  JOURNBT. 


tain  ranges  beyond,  running  northward  and  southward,  as  (ar  as  the 
eye  could  reach,  and  bringing  within  the  scope  of  vision  the  Gulf  of 
Akaba,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Dead  Sea  on  the  other — ^the  latter 
being  five  or  six  days'  travel  distant — ^while,  right  down  before  us  and 
around  us,  precipitous  heights  shot  up  in  wild  magnificence,  Hanked 
by  the  principal  range  of  Mount  Seir,  their  bald  and  ragged  petki 
contrasting  magically  with  the  patches  of  living  green^  interspersed 
here  and  there,  between  and  around  them,  and  which  feU  upon  the 
eye,  so  long  unused  to  such  a  spectacle,  with  enchanting  effect. 

Reluctantly,  and  slowly,  we  descended,  often  pausing  to  take  a  last 
lingering  look  of  some  particular  feature  in  the  clustering  objects  of 
beauty  and  sublimity,  strewn  so  thickly  upon  the  vision.  Reaching 
the  point  where  we  commenced  the  ascent^  we  started  for  Petra, 
now  only  three  miles  distant,  over  the  ledges. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PITRA   AND   ITS   W0NDBR8. 

And  this  is  Petra,  which  my  eyes  behold,  the  once  proud  metropolis 
of  Idumea,  and  I  wonder  not  at  the  sublime  language  of  the  prophet^ 
**  O  thou  that  dwellest  in  the  clefls  oi  the  rock,  tliat  boldest  the  height 
of  the  hill,  though  thou  shouldest  make  thy  nest  as  the  eagle,  I  will 
bring  thee  down."  etc.,  uttered,  as  it  was,  of  a  city,  whose  edifices, 
wrought  in  the  solid  ledge,  are  oflen  to  be  sought  for,  like  the  eagle's 
nest,  amid  the  wildest  crags  of  the  mountain,  crags  around  which  the 
eagle  is  often  seen  circliug  on  his  wing— of  a  city,  too,  which,  appa- 
rently secure  within  its  rocky  barriers,  was  then  culminating  at  the 
height  of  its  power,  as  the  great  central  point  of  commercial  inter- 
course  between  the  East  and  the  West — to  whose  bazaars  C9nverged 
the  caravan  trade  of  Persia,  through  Bagdad,  of  India,  through  the 
Persian  Gulf,  and  of  Southern  Arabia  through  the  inter\'ening  desert, 
and  from  which  it  diverged  to  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  to  Tyre,  Palestme,  Syria,  Asia  Minor,  the  Grecian  Isles,  and  vari- 
ous parts  of  Europe,  on  the  other. 

The  area  within  these  rocky  barriers,  which  constituted  the  main, 
central  portion  of  the  city,  and  which  is  scarcely  a  mile  across,  is 
tumbled  into  inequalities  of  surface,  while  its  exterior  boundary  is 
rendered  very  irregular,  by  means  of  the  deep  gorges  which  penetrate 
from  it  into  the  surrounding  ledge,  insomuch  that  many  of  the  finest 
edifices,  excavated  in  the  rock,  are  to  be  sought  for  in  these  wild 
recesses  in  the  mountidn,  some  of  them  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant 


SUBURBS  OF  PETRA.  653 


from  what  was  the  dtj  proper,  and  none  of  them  in  view  from  it. 
But  this,  80  far  from  detracting  from  the  interesting  features  of  the 
the  place,  only  adds  an  additional  charm.  There  is  a  wild  grandeur 
thus  imparted,  which  contributes  not  a  little  to  the  grand  aggregate  of 
impression.  In  traversing  its  sinuosities,  and  scaling  its  ledges,  you 
are  constantly  stumbling  upon  some  startling  exhibition  of  human  art. 
In  a  situation  where  you  least  expected  it,  oflen  amid  the  wildest  soli- 
tude of  the  mountain.  These  edifices,  located  any  where,  would  excite 
wonder,  but  located  as  they  are,  wonder  rises  to  ecstacy. 

Outside  of  this  enclosed  area,  with  its  gorges,  are  to  be  seen  what 
constituted  the  suburbs  of  the  ancient  city,  consisting  of  similar  struc- 
tures, wrought  in  the  ledges,  strung  along  a  distance  of  two  or  three 
miles,  particularly  towards  the  south,  and,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent, 
in  other  directions;  but  all  defended  by  passes  easily  rendered 
inaccessible. 

The  ledge  which  surrounds  the  central  area,  is  by  no  means  uni- 
formly perpendicular,  or  uniformly  wrought  into  edifices.  On  the 
south  it  has  so  crumbled  away,  that  I  found  no  difficulty  in  making 
my  entry  into  the  place  over  it  without  dismounting  from  my  camel. 

Anciently,  there  was  but  one  inlet  to  the  place,  and  that  an  almost 
subterranean  one,  right  through  the  heart  of  the  mountain,  on  the 
east,  a  mile  or  more  in  length,  and  on  a  levei  with  the  area  within. 
It  still  exists,  just  as  it  did  when  caravans  crowded  their  way  through 
ii,  and  looks  almost  as  though  cut  out  by  the  labor  of  man. 

Having  taken  this  general  view  of  the  locality,  let  us  transport 
ourselves  to  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  inlet  above  described,  a  miJe 
distant  from  the  city,  and,  making  our  way  through  it,  enter  upon  a 
more  minute  and  detailed  examination. 

At  its  eastern  terminus,  this  inlet  flares  out,  the  ledges  on  each  side 
retiring.  And  here  quite  a  number  of  edifices,  wrought  in  the  rock, 
present  themselves  to  view,  one,  upon  our  right,  adorning  the  ledge 
at  least  a  hundred  feet  above  us,  ornamented  with  pilasters,  and  sur- 
mounted by  four  small  obelisks,  in  a  line ;  and  directly  below  it  is 
another,  adorned  with  six  columns.  A  little  further  east,  upon  our 
left,  are  three  square  monolithle  structures  (formed  of  single  detached 
stones),  each,  as  I  should  judge,  about  thirty-five  feet  high,  and  of  late- 
ral dimensions  to  correspond.  They  are  ornamented  with  pilasters. 
These  massive  monoliths  are  quite  a  spectacle.  A  little  furtht  r  east 
still,  is  another  structure  whose  portico  is  supported  by  Doric  columns. 
There  are  still  others  here  and  there.  The  interior  apartments  of 
these  edifices  are  square,  unadorned  rooms. 

Let  us  now  reverse  our  footsteps,  and  enter  the  narrow  way.     How 


654  CARAVAN  JOURlinBY. 

rapidly  its  perpendicular  walls  draw  in  upon  us  as  we  we  advance. 
And,  lo,  here  is  a  triumphal  arch,  of  solid  masonry,  and,  of  verj 
ancient  construction,  spanning  it  a  hundred  feet  directly  over  our 
heads.  Higher  and  higher  rise  the  walls,  until  they  attain  to  the 
height  of  two  or  three  hundred  feet,  shutting  out  the  light  of  the  sun, 
being  apparently  no  further  apart  at  the  top  than  at  the  bottom,  say 
fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  and  festooned  and  beautified  with  creeping 
ivy.  You  are  shrouded  in  twilighl,  and  must  iook  up,  up,  up,  directly 
over  your  head,  to  see  the  light  of  day.  As  you  grope  your  way  along, 
you  notice  a  groove,  or  channel,  cut  right  into  the  perpendicular  ledge, 
along  which  the  stream  that  gurgles  at  your  feet,  was  conducted  into 
tiie  city.  A  slight  turn  or  two  shuts  you  in  before  and  behind,  and 
you  look  anxiously  forward.  After  thus  traversing  this  dark,  winding 
passage  way  for  nearly  a  mile,  you  are  brought  to  an  involuntary 
pause,  and  you  stand  gazing  with  wonder  and  admiration,  as  though 
you  were  entranced.  A  turn  has  opened  to  you  the  light  of  day  at 
the  western  end,  and  the  most  admired  edifice  in  all  Petra,  bursts 
upon  your  vision.  One  of  the  gorges,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  as 
penetrating  into  the  mountain  firom  the  main  central  area,  takes  a 
southerly  direction,  and  the  passage  you  are  traversing  westerly, 
comes  out  into  it  nearly  at  right  angles,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
jfrom  its  mouth,  or  expansion  into  the  central  area.  Upon  the  western 
side  of  this  gorge,  which  thus  comes  up  from  the  site  of  the  anei^t 
city  proper,  stands  what  is  called  the  Kasne,  or  Treasury  of  Pharaoh 
its  beautiul  portico  looking  right  down  the  narrow  passage-waj  in 
which  you  are  advancing,  and  no  wonder  you  are  entranced.  It  is  a 
spectacle  to  entrance  any  one,  under  any  circumstances — but,  under 
such  circumstances,  it  is  overpowering. 

Long  and  intently  did  I  gaze  upon  this  exquisite  product  of  the 
chisel,  upon  its  chaste  design,  its  beautiful  proportions,  and  its  perfect 
finish^  still  constituting,  as  it  does,  a  part  of  the  mountain  rock,  just 
as  it  did  before  the  superfluous  matter  which  concealed  it  from  view, 
was  removed  by  the  tool  of  the  workman.  There  is  a  platform  before 
it,  overhung  by  a  crag  above,  and  this  latter  protects  the  entire  front 
fix>m  the  weather,  both  the  platform  and  the  projecting  crag  being 
the  result  of  excavation.  Six  large  columns  (only  five  now)  adom 
the  lower  story  of  the  portico,  which  is  very  high,  and  six  smaller 
ones  support  and  adom  the  second  story,  all  beautifully  wrought,  some- 
what after  the  Corinthian  order.  The  latter  six  stand  in  pairs,  each 
pair  adorning  a  miniature  temple,  and  constituting  its  front  Thess 
miniature  temples  are  beautified  with  ornamental  work  similar  to  that 
of  the  main  structure — such  as  capiteds,  cornice,  frieze, 'sculpture, 


THE  TCAflNB,  THEATKE,  PKNCILLINOa  56» 

■      ■  \  ■  ■ 

etc,  and  add  greatly  to  the  beauty  of  the  building.  I  believe  they 
are  designed  for  statues.  With  slight  exceptions,  there  are  no  signs 
of  decay  about  the  building.  I  marvelled  to  see  so  fresh  a  red,  or  rose 
color,  to  the  stone,  and  such  sharp  comers  to  the  cornice,  and  the  cap^ 
itals  retaining  the  very  form  in  which  they  were  wrought.  The  ledge 
is  sandstone,  but  very  hard.  The  whole  is  surmounted  with  an  uni| 
or  ball,  nearly  a  hundred  feet,  I  should  say,  from  the  platform  below* 
It  is  simply  the  front  of  the  building,  with  the  portico,  which  is  thus 
wrought.  Through  the  portico,  entry  is  gained  to  three  plain,  una- 
dorned apartments.  On  one  side  of  the  building,  steps  are  eut  in  the 
rock,  by  which  to  climb  to  the  higher  parts  of  it,  but  the  climber 
must  look  well  to  his  foot-hold. 

Descending  the  gorge,  we  find  the  ledges,  on  either  hand,  adorned 
with  the  fronts  of  edifices,  many  of  them  ornamented  with  pilastera 

At  the  mouth  of  this  gorge,  on  the  left,  just  where  it  opens  upon 
the  central  area  of  the  ancient  city,  at  its  south-east  corner,  are  to  be 
seen  the  seats  of  a  magnificent  theatre,  cut  in  the  solid  rock,  and  in  a 
good  state  of  preservation.  There  are  thirty-three  of  these  seats, 
rising  one  above  i^nother,  and  retiring  as  they  rise.  They  take  a  senu- 
circular  sweep,  and  lengthen  as  they  retire,  the  lowermost  one  being 
twelve,  and  the  uppermost  thirty-one  rods  in  length,  making  more 
than  two  miles  of  seats,  all  looking  right  down  upon  what  con* 
stituted  the  platform  of  the  speakers,  while,  in  the  clifis  which  rise  in 
rugged  masses  above  and  back  of  them,  are  to  be  seen  excavationS| 
which  are  supposed  to  have  been  appropriated  to  persons  of  rank. 
But  I  have  nut  the  slightest  idea  that  people  of  rank  ever  occupied 
these  awkward  holes.  The  people  of  the  old  world  have  their  heads 
80  bedizzened  with  such  things,  they  are  constantly  on  the  look-out  for 
something  to  distinguish  the  grandee  from  the  vulgar  herd. 

Across  the  mouth  of  this  gorge,  directly  opposite  the  theatre,  are  a 
number  of  magnificent  structures,  many  of  them  high  up  in  the  ledge* 
Mounting  up  a  hundred  feet,  you  arrive  at  the  base  of  an  edifice, 
whose  summit  towers  another  hundred  feet  above  you,  surmounted 
by  an  inaaoessible  urn,  the  whole  being  overhung  by  crags  of  the 
mountidn.  Exquisitely  wrought  pilasters,  forty  or  fifty  feet  in  height, 
and,  above  them,  rich  sculptured  scenes,  still  twenty  or  thirty  feet 
higher,  adorn  the  front.  It  has  but  a  single  interior  apartment,  but 
that  is  sixty  feet  square,  and  has  a  number  of  recesses.  This  apart^ 
ment,  like  the  others  I  have  described,  is  unadorned  by  the  hand  of 
art,  but  no  touches  of  the  pencil  can  equal  the  delicate  commingling  of 
colors  with  which  nature  has  adorned  its  walls.  The  stone  composing 
these  ledges,  generally  red,  is  occasionally  pervaded  by  almost  every 


566  CARAVAN  JOUKNBY. 


variety  of  colors — ^red,  white,  black,  purple,  blue,  and  jellow — and 
here  they  all  meet  and  mingle  their  tints  with  magic  effect  Hie  dear 
blue  sky,  the  purple  cloud  fringed  with  gold,  the  dark  lowering  of 
the  tempest,  lit  up  by  t^e  lightning  gleam,  and  many  other  soeoea, 
are  here  depicted  with  a  fidelity  which  is  amazing. 

In  front  of  this  edifice  is  a  platform,  originally  flanked  at  each  end 
by  galleries,  and  underneath  it  are  two  tiers  of  spacious  arches,  the 
one  resting  upon  the  other,  all  cumbered  with  ruins,  while  back  of 
them  are  excavations  in  the  mountain. 

Bnt  many  structures  must  be  left  undescribed.  Descending  to  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  and  passing  along  northerly,  at  the  foot  of  the 
ledge,  which  bounds  the  site  of  the  ancient  city  on  the  east,  we  soon 
arrive  at  two  majestic  edifices,  carved  from  the  rock,  much  defaced, 
but  retaining  their  original  beauty  and  finish  sufficiently  to  show  that 
they  were  once  not  inferior  to  any  edifices  in  Petra ;  and,  located  as 
they  are,  overlooking  what  was  doubtless  the  most  populous  portion 
of  it,  they  must  have  been  regarded  as  the  pride  of  the  city. 

One  of  them  is  called  ^'  the  Corinthian  tomb."  Its  front  is  a  hun- 
dred  and  fifty  feet  in  width ;  twelve  immense  colunms  adorn  the  lower 
story,  and  eight  smaller  ones  the  upper.  The  spaces  which  span  the 
building  between  the  two  sets  of  columns,  and  above  the  upper  tier, 
are  occupied  with  well  execu:)ed  sculpture.  I  should  deem  it  a  hundred 
feet  high.    Four  rough  apartments,  with  recesses,  constitute  the  interior. 

Side  by  side  with  this  edifice,  is  another,  of  very  similar  constnio- 
tion  and  general  appearance.  The  upper  story,  however,  is  more  like 
that  of  the  Kasne,  the  columns  standing  in  pairs  and  serving  aa 
fronts  to  miniature  temples,  which,  with  their  elegant  finish,  lend  a 
bewitching  charm  to  the  whole  structure.  From  the  place  where  1 
am  encamped,  these  structures  present  a  most  imposing  appearance, 
their  defects  from  decay  not  being  sufficiently  visible,  at  that  distance, 
greatly  to  impair  their  beauty. 

But  we  must  hasten.  I  have  sp(»ken  of  an  <*difice  whose  base  was 
a  hundred  feet  in  the  air,  but  here  is  one  whose  foundation  is  two  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  world  below,  ornamented  also  with  pilasters,  etc., 
while  high  above  it,  other  edifices  still,  peer  upon  the  view. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  plain,  unadorned  character  of  the  apartments, 
even  of  edifices  whose  exteriors  are  of  the  most  exquisite  finish. 
But,  in  all  Petra,  there  is  one,  and  but  one,  exception  to  this.  Arriv- 
ing at  the  north-eikst  comer  of  the  ancient  city,  we  enter  a  gorge,  and 
here  we  find  a  structure,  in  which  the  order  of  things  is  entirely 
reversed,  the  exterior  being  plain  and  unadorned,  while  its  single  inte- 
rior apartment,  forty  feet  square,  is  beautified  with  ornamental  work 
of  the  highest  finish,  only,  however,  on  three  of  its  sides,  the  front 
wall  being  plain.  The  three  sides  are  adorned  with  four  finely  wrought 
fluted  pilasters  each,  besides  two  double  ones,  which  stand  in  the  two 
comers,  making  fourteen  in  all,  or  sixteenn  single  ones,  and  these  are 
surmounted  by  capitals  and  a  cornice  of  superior  finish.  Neatly  exeeu- 
ted  recesses  and  nitches  occupy  the  space  between  the  pilasters. 

Many  other  edifices  in  this  gorge,  are  worthy  of  notice,  but  we 


TEMPLE  EL  DETEL  657 


must  not  linger,  for  we  have  not  yet  paid  our  respects  to  the  temple 
El  Deir,  perched  upon  its  aerial  height.  Directing  our  course  then 
to  a  broad  flight  of  steps  upon  the  opposite  or  western  side  of  the 
valley,  let  us  climb  the  steep  and  difficult  ascent,  to  accomplish  which, 
an  hour  of  laborious  effort  will  be  required.  And  there  it  is,  rising 
in  solitary  grandeur,  as  by  magic,  upon  the  vision,  but  entirely  pro- 
tected by  the  wild  crags  of  the  mountain,  from  the  vulgar  gaze  below. 
Its  front  is  to  the  west,  opposite  the  town,  and  is  about  one  hundred 
and  forty  feet  wide.  Before  it,  is  spread  out  a  level  area  of  two  or 
three  acres,  excavated  from  the  rock,  and  covered  with  green.  The 
building  itself  is  regarded  as  second  to  none  in  Petra — not  even  to  the 
Kasne,  either  in  its  style  of  architecture,  or  its  state  of  preservation. 
Indeed,  its  architecture  is  very  much  like  that  of  the  Kasne,  and  that 
of  the  edifice  next  the  Corinthian  tomb,  which  I  have  described,  the 
portico  being  sustained  by  large  columns  below,  and  smaller  ones 
above,  the  latter  standing  in  pairs,  adorning  the  fronts  of  miniature 
temples,  and  upon  its  summit  is  pinacled  a  beautiful  urn,  the  whole 
presenting  a  look  of  freshness  and  beauty,  which  surprises  and  capti- 
vates the  beholder.  It  contains  but  a  single  apartment,  and  that  a 
simple  quadrilateral  excavation,  with  recesses. 

And  here  are  numerous  tombs  cut  in  the  rock,  but  I  cannot  stop  to 
describe  them.  Indeed,  go  where  we  will,  within  an  area  of  three  or 
four  miles  north  and  south,  and  one  or  two  miles  east  and  west,  we 
shall  find  the  ledges,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent,  faced  down,  and 
wrought  into  beautiful  facades.  Flights  of  steps,  leading  from  below 
to  the  elevated  sides  and  tops  of  the  mountain,  are  also  to  be  met  with 
at  frequent  intervals. 

That  many  of  the  largest  and  most  elaborately  wrought  of  these 
edifices,  were  temples  for  idolatrous  worship,  and  that  others  of 
them,  particularly  those  with  nitches,  were  tombs,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  But,  to  maintain  that  they  were  all,  or  mostly,  designed  for 
one  or  the  other  of  these  purposes,  would  be  to  suppose  the  existence 
of  a  city,  whose  population  would  be  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
extent  of  the  area  on  which  alone  it  could  be  built.  At  present,  some  ^ 
of  the  finest  edifices  are  occupied  by  the  Bedouins  as  sheep  folds. 

But  we  must  not  leave  unexplored  the  central  area  walled  in  by 
these  ledges.  Returning,  then,  by  the  way  in  which  we  came,  let  us 
see  what  traces  we  can  find  of  the  works  of  art  which  once  adorned  it. 
I  have  spoken  of  a  stream  which  trickles  along  the  narrow  inlet  to  the 
ancient  city.  This  stream,  though  it  is  quite  small,  and  sinks  in  the 
sand  now,  is,  a  great  portion  of  the  year,  much  larger,  and  flows 
directly  across  the  site  of  the  ancient  city,  passing  out  at  the  western 
side,  having  united  in  its  way  with  another,  which  comes  in  through 
the  gorge  from  the  northeast,  of  which  I  have  spoken. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  theatre  located  at  the  south-eastern  comer  of 
the  city  proper.  Let  us  commence  at  that  point,  and  follow  down  the 
stream  above  spoken  of,  which  passes  near  it.  As  we  proceed,  we 
discover  traces  of  bridges  which  once  spanned  it,  of  a  pftved  way  run- 
ning along  its  banks,  and  of  sites  of  important  public  edifices.    Then 


558  CARAVAN  JOITRNET. 


ve  come  upon  the  remains  of  what  was  manifestly  a  triumphal  ard, 
and  below  it,  in  the  souh-westem  portion  of  the  city,  are  to  be  seen 
huge  piles  of  ruins,  hewn  stone,  prostrate  columns,  pedestals,  etc 

There  is  but  one  edifice  still  standing,  and  that  is  in  a  decayed  state. 
It  is  called  ''  the  house  of  Pharaoh,'  and  is  located  just  south  of  the 
stream,  in  the  western  part  of  the  valley,  doubtless  a  palace.  It  is  about 
a  hundred  feet  square,  and  in  its  present  dilapidated  condition,  retains 
many  vestiges  of  its  former  magnificence.  Four  of  the  lai^e  columns 
whidi  adorned  the  front  (facing  the  north),  are  stiU  standing.    Hie 

{>rincipal  of  these  apartments  was  entered  from  the  piazza  under  a 
ofly  arch,  which  spans  the  entrance,  say  thirty  or  forty  feet  high. 
Hie  walls  are  in  a  crumbling  condition,  but  the  eastern  side  presents 
a  beautiful  cornice,  still  entire. 

Upon  the  northern  side  of  the  stream  are  also  many  remains,  but 
they  diminish,  both  in  number  and  interest,  as  you  go  north,  and 
fini^y  disappear,  that  portion  of  the  ancient  city  having  manifestly 
been  occupied  by  inferior  dwellings. 

But  by  no  means  the  least  interesting  among  the  marvels  of  this 
marvellous  place,  are  the  contrivances  for  collecting  and  preserving 
the  rain- water  which  fell  upon  the  ledges.  Everywhere  upon  the  sides 
and  tops  of  the  mountain,  may  be  discovered  little  channels  cut  in  the 
ledges  or  conducting  the  water,  in  tiny  rills,  into  some  reservoir.  Some 
of  these  reservoirs  are  found  high  up  on  the  shelving  rocks.  One  on 
the  eastern  ledge,  is  one  hundred  feet  long,  by  twenty-five  wide,  and 
twenty  deep.  Most  of  the  water  was  conducted  down  for  the  use  of  the 
dty  below,  but  much  of  it  was  doubtl**ss  used  for  irrigating  little  gar- 
dens, constructed,  here  and  there,  between  the  ledges.  But  there  is  a 
still  more  extraordinary  display  of  hydraulic  achievement  here.  In 
the  eastern  ledge,  near  a  hundred  feet  from  its  base,  a  channel  is  cut, 
running  along  its  whole  length,  and  following  all  its  tortuosities,  wbich 
eollected  the  water  falling  upon  the  mountain,  and  conducted  it  into 
the  city.  And  another  channel,  running,  first  north  along  the  eastern 
aide  of  this  same  ledge,  its  whole  length,  and  then  west  along  the 
southern  side  of  the  gorge  I  have  spoken  of,  until  it  met  the  one 
above  mentioned,  and  the  united  stream  was  thus  conducted  into  the 
city  at  its  north-eastern  corner.  I  have  spoken  of  the  channel  cut  in 
the  perpendicular  wall  for  conducting  into  the  city  the  small  stream 
which  flows  through  the  narrow  inlet  from  the  outside  world.  TTiia 
was  doubtless  to  save  it  from  sinking  in  the  sand,  as  it  now  does  before 
it  emerges  from  the  dark  defile.  High  up  on  the  opposite  ledge,  are 
the  remains  of  an  earthen  acqueduct,  designed  for  collecting  and  con- 
ducting into  the  city  the  water  which  fell  upon  the  rocks  above.  And 
thus  were  these  mountain  heights  traversed  in  every  direction,  and 
girt  all  around,  with  'channels,  and  scooped  into  reservoirs,  for  collect- 
ing and  preserving  the  precious  drops  as  they  fell  from  the  clouds. 

Such  wfis  Petra  in  the  days  of  its  glory,  and  such  is  it  now ;  and 
yet,  astonishing  as  are  these  stupendous  remains,  no  less  astonishing 
is  the  &ct,  that  they  should  have  been  lost,  and  remained  unknown  to 
thd  olviliied  world  for  a  thousand  years,  their  disoovery  by  Burckhart, 


PETRA,  WHAT  IS  KNOWN  OF  IT.  569 

and  re  introduction  to  notice  no  longer  ago  than  the  year  1811,  being 
one  of  the  greatest  achieTements  of  modern  travel.  And  the  main 
element  in  jour  astoniahment  is,  tiiat  a  people  should  be  found  upon 
the  £ioe  of  the  earth,  so  unintellectual,  groveling  and  boorish,  as  to 
have  no  appreciation  of  remains  whose  discovery  electrified  the  whole 
civilized  world — ^not  even  appreciation  enough  to  mention  the  &ct  of 
their  existence. 

Here  is  desolation  indeed !  The  physical  desolation  of  the  country, 
its  sear  and  barren  aspect,  is  dreadful  enough,  and  one  cannot  but  sigh 
for  relief  as  he  passes  over  the  arid  waste.  But  what  is  this  to  the 
moral  and  intellectual  desolation,  the  desert  of  mind,  of  mind  sear 
and  barren  as  the  rocks  and  sands  it  calls  its  own !  It  is  a  paradise  in 
the  comparison. 

Of  the  general  history  of  this  wonderful  place,  but  little  is  known* 
We  learn,  however,  that,  strong  and  impregnable  as  it  was  deemed,  it 
was  taken  by  Amaziah,  King  of  Judah,  and  ten  thousand  of  its  inhab- 
itants slain  "  in  the  valley  of  salt,"  when  its  name  was  changed  from 
Selah,  which  means  a  rock  (as  does  the  Greek  name  Petra),  to  Jok- 
iheel,  signifying  obedience  to  the  Lord.  But  it  was  far  less  a  place  of 
of  strength  at  uie  era  in  which  it  flourished,  than  it  would  be  now,  for 
then  the  use  of  gunpowder  and  heavy  ordnance  was  unknown,  the 
main  dependence  being  upon  light  missiles — as  arrows,  javelins,  etc. 
Heavy  guns  planted  upon  the  various  heights  which  command  all 
approaches  to  the  place,  would  have  rendered  it  impregnably  secure. 
W  ith  the  weapons  then  in  use,  it  was  a  place  of  extraordinary  strength. 

We  know,  moreover,  that,  centuries  later,  in  the  time  of  Alexander 
tflid  his  immediate  successors  (some  three  centuries  before  the  Christ- 
ian Era),  the  place  was  in  a  highly  prosperous  condition,  and  that  even 
when  Jerusalem  was  taken  by  the  Romans,  it  was  still  flourishing. 
We  know,  too  of  Idumea,  or  Edom  (so  called  because  peopled  by  the 
descendants  of  Esau),  that  it  rose  to  great  power,  and  was  famous  for 
the  cultivation  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  long  before  the  Israelites  (de- 
scendants of  the  twin  brother  Jacob)  had  attained  to  any  consideration 
as  a  people.  Not  only  do  these  remains,  but  the  remains  of  scores  of 
other  ruined  cities  and  strong-holds,  especially  to  the  north  and  east 
of  this,  attest  its  former  greatness.  ^  Thy  terribleness  hath  deceived 
thee,"  said  the  propht,  when  announcing  its  doom.  ^^  Terrible  "  was 
its  power  i|i  the  eyes  of  aU  surrounding  nations,  and  its  people,  filled 
with  the  pride  of  power,  vainly  imagined  that  there  was  none'  to 
**  bring  them  down."  And,  in  proof  of  their  superiority  in  the  arts 
and  sciences,  it  is  only  necessary  to  adduce  the  fact,  that  Sir  Isaac 
Newton  has  traced  the  rise  of  letters,  and  of  the  sciences  of  astronomy 
and  navigation  to  the  Idumeans.      Hence  the  expression  of  the 

f  prophet,  ^'  the  wise  men  out  of  Edom,  and  men  of  understanding," 
who  were  doomed  to  destruction)  becomes  intelligible. 

Another  prophetic  declaration,  that,  *^  From  generation  to  genera- 
tion it  shall  lie  waste,  and  none  shall  pass  through  it  forever,"  or, 
rather,  the  latter  clause  of  it,  has  been  a  fruitful  source  of  speculation. 
The  literal  fulfilment  of  the  first  clause,  ^  from  generation  to  genera- 


660  CARAVAN  JOURNBT. 


tion,  it  shall  lie  waste,"  the  present  condition  of  the  countrjr,  and  its 
condition  for  ages,  strikingly  demonstrate,  and  not  only  so,  but  the 
fulfilment  of  the  further  prophetic  declaration,  that  '^  of  Edom  there 
shall  be  a  full  end,"  is  equally  striking,  there  being  neither  Edom  or 
Edomites  at  the  present  day,  both  having  long  since  ceased  to  exist) 
all  traces  of  nationality  having  been  obliterated  in  the  ^ion  of  the 
Edomites  and  the  Ishmaelites,  through  intermarriage,  from  which 
fusion  sprang  the  vagrant  tribes  of  the  country — the  Bedouin  Arabs. 

But  those  other  words,  "  None  shall  pass  through  it  forever,"  as 
they  have  been  understood  by  many,  and  some  learned  commentators 
would  make  it  rather  a  perilous  business  to  visit  this  place.  But 
what  sort  of  passing  through  the  country  had  there  previously  been, 
to  which  the  prophet  referred  ?  Was  it  not  the  caravan  travel,  which 
alone  had  made  Petra,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  Idumea,  what  they  were  1 
And  in  order  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  threatened  desolation,  was  it  not 
necessary  that  that  travel  should  cease  ?  As  much  as  that  was  implied 
in  the  prophetic  threat,  for  it  could  not  otherwise  take  place.  The 
prophet  first  mentioned  the  effect,  "  it  shall  lie  waste,"  and  then  very 
naturally  reverted  to  the  cause,  '^  none  shall  pass  through,"  etc 

Three  days  had  passed  joyously  away,  amid  these  interesting.ruins, 
and  as  many  doleful  nighte — ^nights  rendered  frightful  by  the  yells  of 
a  hundred  or  t^o  of  these  half-naked  savages,  who  were  forced  upon 
me  as  a  guard — for  which  I  had  to  pay  roundly — a  guard  of  profes- 
sional robbers  I  Notwithstanding  the  fascinations  around  me,- 1  hailed 
with  delight  the  rising  sun  which  was  to  light  me  on  my  way.  But  I 
did  not  get  off  without  a  demand  upon  my  purse,  and  I  verily  believe 
they  would  have  robbed  me  outright,  had  they  not  been  favored  with 
a  glimpse  of  my  little,  unloaded^  percussion-capped  pistols,  which 
seemed  to  frighten  them  terribly,  although  armed  with  match-lock  guns. 

Making  our  way  out  through  the  passes  by  which  we  had  come, 
into  the  spacious  valley  we  had  lefl  (  Waddy  Musa),  we  proceeded  on 
our  way,  not  following  it  up,  however,  to  the  Dead  Sea,  but  leaving  it 
to  the  right,  and  passing  through  "  the  wilderness  of  Kadesh,"  we 
scaled  a  high  mountain  ledge,  and  entered  "the  hill  country  of  Judea," 
and,  after  five  days'  travel  from  Petra,  we  found  ourselves  in  close 
quarantine  at  Hebron. 

Never  before  did  I  endure  such  raging  thirst,  and  never  before  did  I 
taste  anything  half  so  delicious  as  the  "cup  of  cold  water"  which  quenched 
it  on  my  arrival.  My  faithless  attendant,  whose  duty  it  was  to  ^ 
the  skins  with  water,  instead  of  repairing  to  the  clear-running  stream, 
had  filled  them  at  a  filthy  hole,  which  was  full  of  live  creatures,  and  I 
could  not  drink  it.   For  five  long  days  I  had  endured  this  burning  thirst. 


FIRST  SIGHT  OF  IRELAOT).  /  661 


JOURNAL  LEAVES  OF  EUROPEAN  RAMBLE. 


BT  D.  BiTBvxi  mrrriiLO. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

On  Board  Steamer  **  Asia,"  ) 
July  24;  1855.        ) 

With  the  early  hour  of  morning  I  was  out  upon  the  deck,  and  on  the 
larboard  side  of  the  steamer,  were  faintly  descemed  the  low  mountains 
of  Ireland.  The  sight  was.  grateful  to  the  eye  of  a  storm-beaten,  sear 
sick  passenger,  but,  as  emblematic  of  poor  Erin's  condition,  her  blue 
hills  were  veiled  in  storms.  The  clouds  were  on  her  mountain  brow, 
and  their  tempests  breaking  iipon  her  rugged  head,  but  occasionally 
a  beam  of  sunlight  fell  into  her  valleys,  ^d  illumined  their  verdant 
fields.  ThiSf  thought  I,  is  also  the  political  condition  of  Ireland.  A 
lovely  isle,  sleeping  in  beauty  fer  out  upon  the  sea,  worthy  to  wear 
the  laurels  of  freedom,  but  with  a  storm  hovering  over  her,  and  the 
thunder  scar  of  oppression  on  her  beautiful  brow.  Yet  the  sun  is 
shining  through  the  thick  clouds,  and  who  knows  but  the  day  is  not 
distant,  when  those  clouds  shall  be  rolled  far  off  into  the  deep,  the 
voice  of  that  bellowing  thunder  be  hushed  and  the  sun  go  dowTi  in 
the  light  of  he^ven^s  own  freedom,  blessing  as  a  free  and  indepen- 
dent nation,  the  people  who  dwell  upon  her  lovely  hills.  Alas !  lovely 
Ireland !  Nature  has  done  much,  if  not  every  thing  for  thee !  Why 
is  it  that  thou  wilt  not  arise  in  thy  strengh,  and  putting  on  thy  beau- 
tiful garments,  redeem  thyself  from  the  thraldom  of  thy  oppressors  ; 
whether  they  be  the  men  clothed  in  scarlet  and  enthroned  in 
the  seats  of  power  across  the  channel,  or  those  who  stand  in  the 
holy  place,  and  in  the  name  of  the  very  Incarnation  of  fi^eedom, 
rivet  thy  chains  yet  more  closely.  Thy  liberty  once  achieved,  it  will 
remain  to  thee  an  unconquerable  possession ;  for  then  these  moun- 
tains that  look  out  upon  the  sea,  will  prove  like  strong  bulwarks  to 
guard  against  every  foe  from  without,  and  shelter  the  coming  glory 
already  bursting  within ! 

All  day  we  glided  along  these  lovely  shores,  crowned  alternately 
with  ruined  castles,  and  smiling  farm  or  manor  houses.  Occasionally 
our  vessel  ran  so  close  to  the  shore  that  we  could  distinguish  the 
heather  upon  the  hills,  and  I  longed  to  stoop  from  our  steamer's  side 
and  snatch  away  a  branch  as  a  poetic  memorial  of  this  gem  of  the 
VOL.  1  KG.  xn. — 36. 


MS  EUBOPEAN  RAMBLFA 

sea,  whose  soil,  though  so  dose^  was  jet  untrodden.  As  we 
passed  Cape  Clear,  a  lonel/  rock  was  discerned  rising  one  hun- 
dred and  fifljr  feet  above  the  ocean,  and  crowned  with  a  lighthouse. 
It  is  named  ^'  Fossil  Clough,^'  and  the  captain  says,  that  in  rough 
weather  the  waves,  sweeping  in  from  the  sea,  overleap  its  highest 
summit.  In  consequence  of  its  exposed  situation,  it  was  a  very  peril- 
ous and  expensive  work  to  build,  the  ocean  billows  occasionally  rolling 
in  and  bearing  off  all  that  had  been  done,  and  compelling  the  workman 
to.  begin  de  novo.  But  it  is  now  completed,  and  stands  like  a  genuine 
lighthouse, — such  as  have  haunted  our  imaginations  from  boyhood,— 
washed  by  the  billows  and  shaken  by  their  power,  yet,  still  like  the 
good  christian,  letting  its  light  shine,  so  that  the  tempest-tost  mariner 
may  safely  battle  his  way  into  the  haven  of  Peace. 

The  captain  pointed  out  to  us,  upon  the  coast,  the  little  town  of 
Crook  Ilaven,  and  also  the  site  of  the  old  Baltimore  family,  from  which 
subsequently  sprang  Lord  Baltimore,  the  founder  of  the  city  of  Balti- 
more, in  our  own  country.  The  family  is  now  extinct,  and  the  dreary 
looking  region  of  the  old  fsimily  nest  in  Ireland,  contrasts  strangely 
with  that  polished  and  beautiful  monumental  city  which  still  preserves 
the  name.  Soon  we  reached  another  point  crowned  with  a  lighthouse, 
stretching  far  out  into  the  sea,  but  whose  name  has  escaped  me. 
From  this  point  off  to  the  west,  a  wide  bay  curves  in,  at  the  head  of 
which  is  located  the  famous  City  of  Cork,  which,  although  ludicrously 
associated  with  that  Hibernian  gentleman  who  buttoned  his  coat  the 
wrong  way,  is  nevertheless  reputed  as  one,  if  not  the  most  beautiM 
of  Irish  cities.  In  a  clear  day  its  white  walls  are  observable  from  the 
steamers  running  on  this  route,  but  it  was  too  remote  and  too  cloudy 
for  my  eyes  to  reach,  and  I  was  not  blessed  with  a  sight  of  its  towers. 
Our  vessel  now  turned  her  prow  towards  England,  and  Ireland  began 
to  fade  from  view  in  the  midst  of  a  violent  storm  of  rain,  which  sud- 
denly descended  like  a  flood  upon  us,  compelling  a  general  retreat 
under  cover.  But,  afler  two  or  three  hours,  we  were  agreeably 
surprised  to  see  the  clouds  roll  away,  and  Ireland  once  more  appear 
in  view.  Her  black  hills  hung  in  our  rear  for  some  time,  draped  in 
the  beautiiul  clouds  of  a  summer  night,  gilded  and  glorious  in  the 
hues  of  the  sinking  sun.  For  the  first  time  on  our  voyage  we  beheld 
the  sun  go  down,  not  in  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  but  behind  the  moun- 
tuns.  Slowly  and  still  slowly  he  sank  toward  the  hills,  amid  a 
pavilion  of  storm-fringed  clouds,  until  at  last  he  hid  himself  beneath 
Erin's  wild  heather,  and  bade  us  "  good  night"  By  the  glow  that 
still  lay  in  his  pathway,  we  drew  forth  our  watches,  and  found  that 
cur  Mends  at  home  were  just  about  rising  from  the  dinner  table. 
With  them  it  was  only  half-past  two  o'dock ! 


L 


OLD  BNGULKD.  663 


Soon  another  lighthouse,  rising  from  a  rocky  islet,  and  known  hj 
the  poetio  yet  mournful  name  of  "  Tarawa  light,''  turned  in  our  pres* 
ence  its  various  colored  beams.  It  was  far  removed  from  land,  some 
ten  or  more  miles,  and,  as  we  retreated  from  its  vicinity,  watching  its 
kindly  beams,  we  could  say  in  all  truthfulness,  that  the  last  we  saw 
of  Ireland  was  a  ray  from  Tara's  Hall.  On  we  pressed  through  St. 
George's  Channel,  rumiing  west  of  Cardigan  Bay,  for  Holly  Head^ 
the  stars  blinking  sweetly  upon  us  and  the  gentle  waves  wooing  us 
kindly  to  the  classic  shores  of  England. 

About  ten  o'clock  at  night,  lights  were  seen  descending  the  cbannely 
and  the  captain  thought  them  the  lights  of  the  steamer  "  AtlantiC|"  on 
her  way  to  tho  land  we  had  lefl  behind  us.  The  officer  on  duty  waa 
ordered  to  touch  off  a  blue  light  or  two,  the  first  of  which  scud  circu- 
itously  over  the  deck,  to  the  great  consternation  of  the  ladies.  Then 
several  rockets  were  discharged  into  the  sky,  which  were  almost 
immediately  answered,  assuring  us  that  the  outgoing  vessel  was  in  fi  Jt 
the  "  Atlantic,"  and  that  she  was  fairly  under  way  for  New  York. 
And  yet,  one  ether  thought  was  in  our  minds ;  she  bears  no  letters 
from  the  "  Asia's  "  passengers,  yet  will  she  report  to  their  friends  at 
home,  that  we  are  thus  far  safely  over  the  perils  of  the  great  deep— 
and  with  the  consoling  influences  of  this  thought,  we  all  cheerfully 
sought  our  beds  for  the  last  time  on  board  the  steamer.  But  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  sleep.  The  state-room  was  hot  and  my  braiA 
excited ;  for  on  the  morrow  I  should  look  upon  that  famous  land  so 
throned  with  power  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  and  whose  story  reaches 
back  for  thousands  of  years.  In  my  dreams  (for  dreams  sometimes 
come  without  sleep)  I  was  already  treading  the  soil  where  Rome  had 
once  unfurled  her  banner  and  marched  her  legions ;  where  Good  King 
Alfred  propounded  good  laws,  where  William  the  Conqueror  had 
flashed  his  sword,  where  the  stout  old  Barons  had  won  their  Magna 
Charta,  where  Cromwell,  with  his  iron  hand  and  heel,  had  dashed  down 
and  trampled  under  foot  the  precious  relics,  and  finished  decorations 
of  consecrated  cathedrals ;  where  Milton  had  tuned  his  harp  of  gold, 
and  Shakspeare  had  sung  the  thousand  voices  of  the  human  heart— 
the  land  of  bloody  Mary,  of  chivalrous  Bess,  of  Harry  Bluff,  of  the 
noble  Cranmer  and  Latimer,  and  scores  of  christians  whose  names 
and  whose  glories  are  well  preserved  in  the  Lamb's  Book  of  Everlast- 
ing Life.  All  these  were  before  me,  and  over  all  and  through  all . 
gleamed  the  meteor  flag  of  England,  which  for  centuries  had  heralded 
]^er  name  and  fame  through  all  lands  and  over  all  seas. 

As  the  first  streak  of  day  trembled  down  through  the  bull's  eye . 
window  of  my  state-room,  I  pushed  out  upon  deck,  and  there,  sure 


1 


664  BUBOPE^lK  RAMBLBa 

enough,  there  teas  Old  Enolakd  !    Never  before  did  her  nune  seem 

80  great  as  I  now  read  it  sculptured  in  colossal  characters  on  the  broa4 
forehead  of  Holly  Head,  so  boldly  uplifted  from  "  the  gray  old  Sea.* 
My  heart  was  full  of  joy,  and  somehow  or  other,  I  seemed,  for  the 
time  at  least,  to  have  lefl  all  national  prejudice  amid  the  billows 
behind  me,  and  lifting  my  hat  I  greeted  the  good  old  land  as  the  glori- 
ous and  honored  mother  of  «  Young  America." 
*  Holly  Head  is  a  beautiful  and  bold  promontory  of  rugged  basaltic 
rock,  on  the  coast  of  Wales,  a  splendid  natural  rampart  against  the 
stormy  assaults  of  the  ocean.  Between  the  more  exposed  cliff  and 
the  main  range  swings  a  delicate  suspension  bridge.  Upon  the  cliff 
toweVs  Holly  Head  light,  nobly  situated,  and  casting  its  beams  many 
miles  out  to  sea.  The  rock  is  gray  in  color,  and  on  the  innner  side 
well  exposed  to  examination,  by  extensive  excavations  made  for  die 
new  harbor  now  in  process  of  construction,  and  on  which  the  British 
gorvemment  are  expending  some  £2,000,000  sterling.  It  stretches 
inward  with  a  beautiful  curve,  and  on  the  back-ground,  Snowden^  on0 
of  the  finest  mountains  to  be  seen  on  the  coast,  lifls  his  towering  head 
some  three  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the  sea;  I  needed  no 
introduction  to  Aim,  but  unfortunately  his  face  was  not  to  be  seen,  ia 
consequence  of  the  clouds  which  were  folded  about  his  summit.  The 
houses  of  the  town  lie,  fur  the  most  part,  back  of  the  clifl^  and  out  of 
sight,  though  a  few  of  them  were  observed,  as,  also,  a  fine  monument 
towering  up  on  adjacent  grounds,  to  the  memory  of  Captain  Brock, 
wh^  was  long  in  command  of  one  of  the  British  mail  steamers,  Mid 
drowned  in  a  great  storm  olT  this  point  not  many  years  since. 

Soon  we  came  to  Skerry's  light,  which  is  seen  on  the  next  high  point 
to  the  right,  on  the  Island  of  Anglesca.  It  now  belongs  to  govern- 
ment. The  few  roue^h  and  barren  rocks  on  which  it  is  located*  were 
originally  granted  to  the  Anglesea  family,  in  the  days  of  Queen  Anne» 
on  condition  they  should  maintain  a  lighthouse  upon  it,  accompanied 
with  a  right  to  collect  a  certain  tax  on  every  vessel  going  into  Liver- 
pool.  The  trade  of  Liverpool  was  dien  quite  limited,  and  the  reve- 
nue accruing  from  this  grant  remained  comparatively  small  until  the 
late  rapid  and  wonderful  increase  of  her  tonnage.  The  tax  then 
became  onerous  and  the  government  sought  to  possess  and  own  all 
the  lights  on  her  coasts,  and  this  among  others.  They  there- 
fore purchased  these  few  naked  rocks  from  the  Anglesea  family  for 
the  enormous  sum  of  three  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand  pounds 
sterling  (£344,000)!  The  fianily,  notwithstanding  these  figuree, 
grumbled  at  the  price,  but  the  government  was  satisfied,  as  it  only 
amounted  to  eighteen  years^  revenue  on  the  tonnage,  as  it  was  esGxnsr 


!rBQB  NEWS,  IKSPECTtON.  565 

»»^— — »^— ^^— — ^— — ^p-^— ■  11  ■  ■  I .  I   I      I    I     '  I  I  ... 

ted  at  the  time  of  the  purchaae.  Walea,  aa  it  well  known,  poaseasea 
the  lai^eat  iron  works  in  the  world  ;  those  of  Dalgelly,  belonging  to 
Ladj  Guest,  and  employing  upwards  of  eight  thousand  persona. 
Large  copper  minea  are  also  worked  there. 

^us  were  we  running  towards  the  broad  mouth  of  the  Mersey,  on 
a  lorely  Sabbath  morning,  the  sun  just  risen  from  his  bed,  and  a  fine 
air  blowing  outpour  signals  to  their  fullest  dimensions.  Eight  or  nine 
vessels  were  perceived  in  the  offing,  and  five  steamers,  whose  long 
wreathes  of  smoke  unmistakably  indicated  their  character.  When, 
as  yet,  some  thirty- five  miles  from  Liverpool,  a  lovely  little  Pilot 
Boat  (No.  11)  dropped  down  along  side  and  bestowed  upon  us  a  pilot. 
The  passengers  were  exceedingly  anxious  for  his  arrival,  that  they  might 
learn  the  additional  news  from  the  Crimea,  which  we  failed  to  receive 
at  Halifax.  They  thronged  around  him  with  innumerable  questions — 
the  principal  one  being,  "  Is  Sebastopol  taken  ?"  which  fell  from  a 
score  of  lips  aa  he  leaped  down  upon  the  deck.  "  No ! ''  was  the 
reply,  *^  but  Lord  Raglan  is  dead  with  t^e  cholera — Sir  George  Simp^ 
fion  is  appointed  his  successor — Sir  George  Browne  is  on  his  return 
from  the  Crimea  on  sick  leave,  and  Lord  John  Russel  has  resigned.'* 
The  report  was  delivered  with  as  much  terseness  as  if  it  had  been  a 
ielegram  (as  the  English  express  this  style  of  message,  and  T  think 
cgrrectly.) 

The  English  passengers  stood  bewildered  aiid  solemn  for  a  few 
moments,  expressed  their  regrets  that  "  the  gallant  old  fellow ''  should 
JiaVe  fallen  oy  so  inglorious  a  foe,  and  then  wondering  what  could 
again  be  the  matter  with  "  Lord  John,^'  they  passed  into  a  discussion 
aa  to  the  merits  of  Sir  George  Simpson  as  Raglan's  successor,  and 
who,  in  their  respective  and  respectable  opinions,  among  the  English 
officers,  were  best  entitled  to  the  honor  which  ultimately  carries  with 
It — the  fall  of  Sebastopol, 

About  nine  o'dock,  on  a  delightful  Sabbath  morning,  we  reached 
our  anchorage  in  the  Mersey.  But  who  are  these  in  black  suits  with 
white  cravats,  climbing  up  the  sides  of  the  ship  ?  You  might  think 
them  a  deputation  of  ministers^  coming  on  board  to  welcome  home  a 
returning  missionary.  But,  as  they  advance,  in  stately  gravity, 
towards  those  formidable  rows  of  trunks,  ranged  along  the  decks 
above  and  the  cabin  below,  you  soon  learn,  that  they  are  none  other 
than  the  grabbing  officials  of  her  majesty,  the  queen,  on  full  scent  for 
tobacco  and  cigars,  with  a  sharp  lookout  for  books,  periodicals,  etc;, 
and  while  they  snatch  at  some,  you  wonder  to  see  them  pass  by  others 
which  are  equally  their  lawful  prey. 

*  While  this  scene  was  being  enacted,  waiting  patiently  my  own  turn, 
I  seated  myself  high  on  the  gunwale  of  the  ship,  when  suddenly  the 
finely  toned  chimes  from  the  bells  of  a  massive  stone  church  which 
peered  upon  my  view  from  the  heights  of  Burkenhead,  began  to 
peal  forth  upon  the  pure  air,  and  seemed  to  woo  me  to  its  sacred 
altar.  I  thought  of  home  and  the  church  of  my  kindred,  now  &r  oft 
lyeyond  the  three  thousand  miles  of  stormy  water.  But  comforting, 
indeed,  in  lids  foreign  land,  was  the  sweet  assurance  I  felt,  that,  at 
their  own  home  altar,  the  absent  one  would  not  be  forgotten. 


66e  TBATSLS  IN  THE  SOUTHWSST. 


TRAVELS  IN  THE  SOUTH-WEST. 


BT  OILBUT  BATBAWAT,  HQ.,  OT  LA  POST!,  VKD, 


An  almost  universal  practice  prevails  in  this  country  of  seating  you 
at  table  on  long  wooden  benches,  such  as  I  have  seen  in  the  western 
country,  where  the  boarders  were  employed  in  building  a  railroad,  or 
digging  a  canal,  and  this  too  in  a  country  where  splint  and  cowhide 
bottomed  chairs  are  abundant,  at  a  few  shillings  apiece.  These  latter 
form  a  feature  in  the  picture,  to  the  unpracCiced  eye,  very  noticeable. 
Upon  the  usual  frame,  the  raw  hide,  cured  in  the  sun,  being  in  a  damp 
state  is  stretched,  by  means  of  thongs  cut  from  the  same^  and  secured 
beneath.  The  hair  of  the  animal  is  left  on,  and  in  its  position  is  upper- 
most, forming  a  sort  of  cushion  on  which  to  sit,  presenting  for  a  seat 
the  varied  colors  with  which  the  animal  was  decked  when  living.  I 
think  the  benches  made  for  seats  at  table  must  be  the  taste  of  the 
people. 

A  man  traveling  in  this  country  must  not  be  scrupulous  about  whal 
he  sits  on,  or  what  he  eats,  or  in  what  kind  of  bed  he  sleeps.  For  my 
own  part,  I  can  accomodate  myself  to  all  other  conditions  and  circum- 
stances, better  than  I  can  to  be  put  into  a  bed  which  perhaps  has  not 
been  changed  for  four  weeks  previous,  and  that  too,  with  some  person 
as  a  bedfellow  whom  I  have  not  seen  before,  whose  appearance  gives 
evidence  of  not  having  performed  very  thorough  ablutions  within  the 
present  quarter. 

Some  little  time  before  the  hour  of  retiring,  I  noticed  the  landlord 
take  one  of  the  guests  a  little  one  side,  and  after  whispering  with  him 
a  few  moments,  returned  to  where  I  was  standing,  near  the  fire,  saying 
to  me  that  I  might  occupy  such  a  bed  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  with 

Mr.  B ,  the  gentleman  with  whom  he  had  had  the  secret  confabo* 

lation ;  to  which  I  replied,  that  I  was  not  a  very  good  bedfellow,  that 
I  feared  that  I  might  disturb  his  slumbers ;  that  if  he  would  allow  me* 
I  would  sleep  on  the  floor,  before  the  fire ;  that  I  had  plenty  of  blank- 
eta,  and  by  using  my  carpet  sack  as  a  pillow,  I  could  pass  the  nigfaft 

very  comfortably.     This  being  said  in  the  hearing  of  Mr.  B y  he 

replied  that  he  did  not  think  I  would  disturb  him  at  all ;  that  when  I 
had  been  in  Texas  a  little  longer,  I  would  get  accustomed  to  the  thing, 
and  care  not  who  I  slept  with.    The  landlord  seeing  the  unchangeable* 


A  CATTLB  GBO"VrEB.  B6t 


ness  of  mj  purpose,  said  that  I  might  occupy  the  bed  by  myself,  and 
that  his  friend  would  "  crawl  in  "  with  the  man  already  "  at  rest**  in 
the  other  comer  of  the  room,  and  thus  it  was  arranged.  I  learned  that 
ihe  recent  couYersation  between  the  parties,  had  been  in  relation  to 

myself,  in  which  Mr.  B was  assured  he  need  have  no  fears  of  me 

•as  a  bedfellow,  not  for  once  dreaming  that  I  could  have  any  objection 
-to  him. 

The  day  I  left  Wax-a-hachi,  I  crossed  the  largest  prairie  I  had  yet 
met  with  in  the  state.  Twenty  miles  weie  driven  without  a  house  by 
my  pathway,  and  almost  without  sight  of  a  tree.  A  few  nez-keets 
were  seen  during  the  drive ;  other  than  these  naught  was  in  view  but 
the  sky  above,  and  the  ever-changing  billowy  wave  of  the  tall  grass,  as 
I  passed  over  the  successive  undulations  in  this  vast  plain. 

The  first  house  I  came  to,  was  that  of  a  cattle  grower ;  a  more  fit- 
ting place  he  could  not  have  selected  for  his  vocation.     He  was  in  an 
Almost  boundless  prairie,  of  the  finest  fertility,  with  a  rich,  luxuriant 
grass  on  all  sides  of  him,  about  ten  miles  from  a  grove  of  timber, 
affording  protection  for  his  cattle  when  needed,  and  furnishing  the 
necessary  rail  timber  for  his  ranch.     A  stream  of  clear,  pure  water 
ran  near  his  door,  dividing  his  vast  possessions  into  nearly  equal  parts. 
He  had  an  eighty  acre  field  inclosed  with  a  suitable  fence,  composed 
of  rails  from  the  cedar  brake  in  the  distance.     There  he  raised  what 
4)om  was  necessary  lor  his  own  consumption.     His  garden,  which  was 
extensive,  furnished  all  the  vegetables  he  needed,  fresh  and  fine,  nearly 
every  month  in  the  year.     He  had  a  comfortable  house,  and  plenty 
of  out-buildings.     His  steers  he  sold,  in  the  spring,  to  the  cattle 
drovers,  who  paid  him  an  annual  visit,  by  which  means  he  obtained 
all  the  money  necessary  Tor  domestic  purposes,  to  increase  stock,  or  to 
accomodate  a  firiend  when  he  should  ask  for  a  loan.     His  gun  fiir- 
nished  his  table  with  all  the  venison  he  desired,  for  it  was  abundant 
about  hiiiu     When  he  wished  sport  by  way  of  hunting,  he  had  to  but 
sound  his  horn,  and  his  hounds  came  bounding  about  him,  ready  for 
the  chase — to  mount  his  mustang,  and  his  away  to  the  cedar  brake, 
where  old  bruin  was  sure  to  be  found.     He  failed  not  to  find  the  sport 
he  sought. 

His  nearest  neighbor  was  ten  miles  distant,  and  that  was  near 
enough  for  all  practical  purposes ;  nearer  than  that  would  interfere 
with  the  range  of  his  three  thousand  cattle  and  his  three  hundred 
horses,  which  pastured  thereabouts. 

I  left  this  place  with  some  regret,  for  an  air  of  neatness  and  comfort 
and  ease  seemed  to  pervade  the  premises.  A  more  independent  per- 
son it  would  be  difficult  to  find,  and  when  it  is  known  that  this  inde- 


ft68  T&^YBLS  or  THE  SOUTHWEST. 

pendence  has  been  acquired  within  a  few  years  from  the  smallest  W 
ffinning,  it  leads  one  to  conclude  that  the  cattle  business  !s  profitable 
m  the  extreme. 

The  tales  that  are  told  of  the  wealth  acquired  in  that  business  are 
toally  astonishing,  and  this  too  without  the  outlay  of  mueh  caftal, 
simply  by  the  natural  increase  of  the  stook,  with  very  little  atttotion 
from  the  owners.  I  have  met  several  persons  in  my  travels  through 
the  state  who  are  realizing  an  annual  income  of  from  three  to  five  thou- 
sand dollars  from  this  source,  who  but  a  few  years  since  commenced 
with  a  few  dollars  worth  of  cows  and  calves. 

But  I  will  not  detain  you  with  further  uninteresting  details  aboot 
.fiattle,  but  will  take  leave  of  Mr.  8mith  and  his  ranch,  and  driver  to 
his  nearest  neighbor,  ten  miles  on  my  way,  at  which  point  my  nest 
letter  will  begin. 

It  was  not  far  from  night-&Il  when  I  approached  the  grove  of  ^^  Post 
Oak "  which  I  was  told  I  would  pass  through  in  order  to  reach  the 
point  of  destination  for  the  day. 

As  I  have  before  remarked,  the  roads  were  not  only  good,  but  very 
good  and  smooth.  It  had  been  dry  so  long  that  they  had  become 
.fiiir  and  hard.  The  road  is  but  a  single  path  across  the  prairie,  and, 
although  long  without  rain,  yet,  from  the  peculiar  character  of  the 
soil,  it  was  not  dusty.  My  horses  were  quite  fresh,  and  trotted  very 
briskly  over  the  even  surface.  The  buggy  was  light  and  my  weight 
was  no  load  for  them  at  all.  Yet,  from  the  dull  monotony  of  the 
scenery,  one  becomes  very  tired.  Constantly  looking  upon  the  same 
imvaried  soene,  with  no  object  to  rest  the  eye  upon,  save  the  same 
boundfess  sea  of  grass,  as  it  was  spread  out  before  me,  on  the  plain, 
and  gently  undulating  swells  of  the  prairie ;  with  no  human  being,  to 
whom  I  could  say  a  word,  or  whose  voice  I  could  hear  sound  in  my 
ear ;  with  profound  stillness  reigning,  save,  it  may  be,  the  low  rumble 
of  my  wheels,  or  the  clatter  of  my  horses^  hoofe  on  the  well-beaten 
path,  without  a  living  thing  to  cross  my  way — ^not  even  a  hawk,  or 
erow,  whose  undulating,  or  sailing  motions  on  the  wing,  I  noiight  watoh. 
With  this  lonely  stillness  which  reigns  in  the  chambers  of  the  dead,  I 
plodded  my  way  along,  wearied  and  sick  of  life.  When  suddenly,  on 
rising  the  summit  of  a  hill,  a  sight  at  once  beautiful  and  enchanting, 
burst  upon  my  view.  I  wish  1  could  properly  describe  it  to  you,  as 
it  then  appeared  to  me,  and,  as  I  drank  it  in. 

I  had  ascended  to  the  summit  of  a  ridge,  extending  a  long  distanoe 
both  to  the  right  and  left,  with  a  deep  valley  before  me.  My  patii- 
way  led  down  the  hill,  its  winding  sinuosities  I  could  distinctly  trace 
to  a  great  distanoe.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  wound  a  stream  of  bright 
pure  water,  glimpses  of  ^hich  I  caught  through  the  clumps  of  trees 
and  shrubbery  which  most  of  the  way  lined  its  banks.  For  the  most 
part,  it  was  confined  to  a  narrow  bed,  but  here  and  there,  in  the  rang^ 
my  position  enabled  me  to  take,  it  spread  into  pools,  lit  up  with  a 
peculiarly  pleasing  brightness,  as  the  declining  rays  of  a  receding  sun 
fell  aslant  its  sur&ce.  A  few  cottonwoods  reared  their  njajestic  limbs 
above  the  surrounding  growth,  and  occasionally  might  be  seen  a  pecan. 


fifiAUTIFITL  OOUNTBY  flEAT.  M» 

with  lihe  hull  of  the  nut  still  on  the  end  of  each  bearing  twig,  the 
fruit  having  fallen  to  earth  to  fatten  the  swine  which  nestled  at  its 
roots.  But,  the  most  attractive  feature  of  this  sight  was  the  tall 
oedars,  scattered  along  its  banks,  or  stretching  away  in  clusters  of 
onany  acres,  many  of  which  must  have  attained  the  length  of  an  hun* 
dred  feet,  shooting  their  waving  heads  high  in  the  air,  and  casting  a 
dark  shadow  on  the  beautiful  picture  before  me.  Just  beyond  t£is 
stream  rose  a  hill  of  peculiar  loveliness,  of  easy  ascent,  with  trana* 
verse  ridges,  or  waves,  thrown  across,  till  the  eye  rested  on  the  summit 
in  the  distance.  It  had  been  recently  burned,  and  the  young  grass 
appeared  above  the  blackened  surface,  presenting  the  appearance  of  an 
emerald  carpet  spread  upon  a  ground  of  jet,  through  which  its  dark 
shades  were  distinctly  seen,  and  on  which  an  immense  flock  of  sheep 
were  feeding. 

I  gazed  upon  this  scene  with  great  delight.  My  eye  followed  up 
the  hill-side  to  the  summit,  where  was  a  grove  of  post  oak,  not  in  the 
most  picturesque  order  possible  for  the  imagination  to  define.  In  a 
moment  I  caught  the  inspiration  of  the  place,  and  was  transported  to 
new  scenes,  with  hopes*  afresh.  My  horses  seemed  to  receive  a  por- 
tion of  the  same  inspiration,  and  dashed  away,  down  the  descending 
path,  with  a  speed  indicating  an  influence  from  spirits  of  the  air. 

Directly  I  crossed  the  stream,  which  was  accomplished  on  a  rickety 
sort  of  bridge,  composed  of  cedar  poles,  1  had  mounted  to  the  sum* 
mit,  where,  in  the  midst  of  this  grove  of  post  oak,  1  found  the  resi- 
dence of  the  gentleman,  I  was  seeking. 

The  labor  of  the  day  was  over,  and  although  it  was  a  winter  month, 
yet  I  found  him,  with  a  neighboring  friend,  sitting  on  his  spadouB 
porch,  enjoying  the  cool  of  the  evening. 

His  house,  a  double  cabin,  was  surrounded  by  the  native  oaks,  ttt 
all  the  beauty  of  pristine  grandeur.  His  indosures  were  ample,  and 
and  although  a  new  place,  yet  I  could  see  that  the  hand  of  woman's 
care  and  cultivation  had  been  there,  for  many  were  the  tree  and  flower 
bearing  bush,  scattered  around,  adding  gems  to  the  many  natural 
beauties  of  the  spot. 

A  broad  prairie  stretched  away  for  many,  many  miles  in  front  of 
his  home,  while  at  the  right  and  the  left,  the  grove  obstructed  tike 
view.  This  is  the  abode  of  a  man  of  wealth,  who,  by  a  long  course  of 
industry,  in  trade,  in  a  distant  state,  having  acquired  sufficient  of  this 
world's  goods,  to  live  in  rest  and  ease,  the  number  of  days  Providence 
may  vouchsafe  to  him  on  earth,  had  sought  this  bright  spot,  on  whicb 
the  sun  of  his  ambition  might  set,  when  earthly  visions  should  be  shut 
out  in  his  departure  to  the  spirit  land. 

Ah !  me-thinks  it  would  be  an  easy  thing  to  die  in  so  lovely  a  place 
as  this:  with  the  many  charms  of  life  around  one,  the  transition  to  the 
spirit- world  could  not  be  great.  "  He  might  wrap  the  drapery  of  hit 
couch  about  him,  and  lie  down  to  pleasant  dreams. '^ 

The  sun  had  gone  to  his  rest,  below  the  western  horizon. 

^  **  Now  comet  lUl]  ercniaf  on,  mad  twiH|^t  gnj 

Had  hi  her  sober  IWery  mil  Uilngt  clAd ; 
BilcDce  mceompanied ;  for  beMt  and  bird, 
Tbey  to  Uieir  graaiy  ooneh,  thcM  to  tkdr  netta ; 


5t0  TRAVELS  IK  THB  SOUTHWBST. 

-  -  * 

Were  dank,  an  bvtt  the  wAkefal  nlghttagmle. 
She  ftll  Digfat  loDf  her  amorons  deeeant  tanf ; 
nicDoe  wM  pleMed ;  now  glowed  the  flmaaient. 
With  UTing  Mpphiree;  Heapems,  thai  led 
The  fftarrr  hoet,  rode  bri^teet  till  the  mom 
Uelng  In  elonded  mi^|eety,  at  length 
Apparent  queen,  onveiled  her  peerlew  U^t 
And  o*er  the  dark  her  ailrer  mantleTthrew.** 

If  jou  have '  never  seen  a  post  oak  grove,  70U  have  missed  one  of 
the  most  pleasing  sights  in  nature.  I  wish  I  could  fully  describe  it  to 
jrou,  such  an  one  as  bears  the  name  of  Chatfield — ^above  mentioned. 

llie  trees  are  all  nearly  the  same  size,  with  bark  of  a  light  texture^ 
and  scaly  sur&ce,  and  without  limbs,  till  you  reach  some  fifteen  feet 
from  the  ground,  growing  in  clusters,  scattered  here  and  there,  in 
five,  ten,  or,  may  be,  a  dozen.  The  limbs  all  coming  out  about  the 
same  distance  above  the  earth,  interlacing  with  twig  and  foliage,  form 
a  canopy  of  beautiful  net-work.  There  being  no  under-growth,  tibe  grass 
has  formed  a  sward  of  great  compactness.  The  ground  is  generally 
a  little  undulating,  or  may  be  a  long  and  gradual  descent,  so  gradual 
that  the  eye  is  pleased  in  resting  upon  it,  as  you  look  through  its 
vista  of  trees,  beneath  the  various  canopies  scattered  around,  where 
the  view  terminates,  at  a  distance  of  a  half  a  mile  or  more,  in  the 
gently  rippling  stream,  winding  its  way  at  the  base  of  the  slope. 

O,  to  see  the  startled  deer,  dash,  with  antlers  on  high,  through  this 
*'  opening "  land,  as  he  seeks  protection  in  the  cane  or  cedar  brake 
beyond  ;  or  may  be,  the  wild  turkey,  with  head  erect,  going  from  yon 
with  the  speed  of  the  wind,  fills  one  M'ith  the  wildness  of  romance, 
causing  a  rapidly  pleasing  pulsation,  unknown,  except  in  Texas.  You 
should  come  here,  and  see  all  this,  for  yourself — to  describe  it  ade- 
quately, is  utterly  out  of  the  question. 

A  copious  spring  jgushes  from  the  hill-side,  and  runs  in  pleasing 
cadences,  till  its  bright  waters  mingle  with  those  of  the  stream  already 
mentioned.  May  the  hopes  of  the  proprietor  of  this  place  be  fuUy 
realized — may  his  days  pass  with  the  peace  of  a  voyage  on  the  sea  of 
Halcyon — may  he  have  no  difficulty  with  his  land  titles — may  no 
person  poach  his  cattle — ^and  the  residents  near  by  be  neighbors  indeed. 
When  I  left  this  lovely  spot,  I  took  leave  of  the  good  land  in  this 
section  of  the  State,  a  drive  of  eleven  miles  brought  me  to  Corcicana^ 
the  seat  of  justice  of  Naruro  county. 

This  town  is  situate  on  the  prairie,  without  trees,  and  is  has 
recently  been  the  scene  of  some  desperate  thefts  and  murders.  Much 
excitement  prevails  throughout  the  country,  a  recital  of  the  cause  of 
which,  would  cause  the  blood  to  curdle  in  one's  veins,  and  the  heart 
to  revolt  at  the  deep  depravity,  and  moral  degradation  of  human 
kind.  This  day's  drive  was  fully  forty-five  miles.  A  little  before  the 
shades  of  evening  set  in,  I  reached  the  house  of  a  planter,  who  had 
formerly  resided  in  Illinois.^  He  caused  ^particular  care  to  be  taken 
of  my  horses,  and  would,  I  doubt  not.  have  given  me  comfortable 
&re,  if  the  house  had  been  under  his  control.  I  soon  ascertained  that 
a  different  sort  of  genius  presided  in  doors  from  the  one  outside. 
All  matters  here  were  in  a  most  slatternly  state,  notwithstanding  the 
the  building  itself  was  much  better  than  those  usually  met  with. 


INDEX. 


Stl 


V 


INDEX 


TO  DR.   DUTFIELD^S   **  NOTES  OF  FORBION  TRAVEL.'* 


Abbey,  WMtmtniter,  iti  moQamtnts,  etc  108 

Arc,  Trlumphml,  at  ParfB  111 

Arc  d«,  Triompbe  de  I'Etolle  146 

Arc  do,  form,  dimensions,  inscrfptions,  etc  14T 

Alps,  Maratfme,  scenery.  801 
Alps,  Geology  of                                      801,  802 

Auianzlato,  Chapel  of,  at  Plea.  851 
Annuoziato,  Its   painting   of  the  Trinity, 

impions  861 

Bay  of  New  Tork,  its  islandst  eto  8 
Birkenhead,  Its  abbey,  Its  growth              17,  18 

Bourse,  or  Exchange,  Paris,  eto  158 

Bsckwlth,  General,  QnlTersity  of  La  Tour  255 

Baptistery,  of  Pisa,  description  840 

Baptistery,  At  Rome,  Constantlne  baptised  448 

Custom-house  officials,  etc.,  Llrerpool  14 

Oustom-hoose,  Inspection  at  Naples  521 
Ohurch,  I>r.  McNeills,  serrices,  et«           16, 17 

Chester,  Its  cathedral  and  dead  king  18 

Carlisle  and  its  surroundings.  49 

Champs  Elysees,  parties,  fetes,  etc.  146 

Catacombs,  under  Paris  156 

Church  of  St  Snlplce,  Paris  198 

CalrlD,  His  Influence  on  the  world  207 

Cathedral  where  Oalrln  preached  248 

C*nton  of  Genrea,  toleration  248 

Cbamberry,  Capital  of  SaToy  244 

Chestnuts,  an  article  of  food,  251 

Columbus,  house  where  born.  297 

Chapel  of  the  Hedici,  Florence,  Tislt  to  248 

Church  of  San  Lorenso,  Florence  244 

Cathedral  of  Florence,  description  244 

Church  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  Florence  846 

Church  of  the  conTent,  Pisa  848 

Cathedral  of  Pisa,  visit  to  861 

Cathedral,  built  with  spoils  of  pirates  860 

Cathedral,  its  splendor  and  magnlflcencs  850 

Campanile,  or  "  the  leaning  tower  "  852 

Cfrita  Vecchia,  port  of  Rome  888 

CMvita  Tecchia,  custom-house  vexations  890 

Civita  Tecchia,  Joumer  from  to  Rome  890 

Civlta  Tecchia,  from  Rome  to  519 

Cemetery  of  Pisa,  how  formed  885 

Qiurch  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  Rome  444 

Cftinreh  of  Scala  Santa  445 

Church  of  St.  John  de  Lsteran  446 

CoUsseum,  of  Rome,  description  481 
Colisseum,  christians  thrown  to  wild  beasts  482 

Colisseum,  Its  form  and^dimcnslons.  482 

Cesars,  palaoe  of.  Its  desolation  484 

Caracalla,  baths  of  484 

Columbaria,  description  of.  485 

Churches  of  San  Ticenso,  and  St.  Paolo  486 

Church  of  St.  Sebastian,  its  relics  p  487 

Catacombs,  description,  extent,  etc.  487 

Catacombs,  reAige  of  early  christians  488 

Church  of  St.  Paul,  description  489 

Capitol,  its  statuary,  fireseoes,  etc.  484 
Capitol,  Its  museum,  emperorst  and  pbiloso- 

phers  495 

Corsinl  Oh«pel,  sceiSe  wHoesied  596 

Campagna,  remarks  on  518 

Church  Jlaylng  comer  stone  621 

Castle  of  St.  liBM,  Naplca  622 


Church  of  8t.''JaDuarius,  miracle  6M 

Church  of  do.,  description  of,  relics  of  096 
Church  of  Gesu  Nnovo,  Pope's  Indulgence.  025 

Chapel  of  Pauii  de  Sangro,  statue  62d 

Catacombs  of  Naples  628 
Drinking  in  England,  a  habit  of  the  people    09 

Dieppe,  Its  location,  edifices,  etc.  106 

Dieppe,  its  idol  worship  109 

Diligence,  description  of.  206 

Dijon,  birth  plac^  of  Bossuett  206 
Embarkation  at  New  Tork.                         7,   8 

Edinburgh,  the  old  and  new  town  6T 
Edinburgh,  Knox's  house,  attending  church  68 
Edinburgh,  Drs.  Guthrie  and  Candlish      60,  61 

Edinburgh  ragged  schools  62 

Elisabeth,  queen,  and  Earl  of  Leicester  96 

Ecole  de  Medicine,  Paris.  198 

Eve  created  out  of  Adam  886 

Etruscan  city,  remains  of  891 

Florence,  arrival  at  841 . 

Flower  girls  of  Florence.  816 

Gastronomies  on  ocean  steamers  11 

Giant's  causeway  12 

Grouse,  game  for  sportsmen  60 

Glasgow,  its  cathedral,  its  cemetery  64 

!  Glasgow,  its  houses,  its  Brlgot  street.  66 
Glasgow,  Its  manufactories.  Its  tall  chimneys  66 

Grand  Trianon,  Madame  de  Maintenon.  19T 

Garden  of  plants,  Paris,  description  190 

Gobelin,  tapestry  manufacture  200 

Gobelin,  process  of,  like  painting  260 

Geneva,  institutions,  surroundings  241 

Genoa,  its  situation  and  form  296 

Genoa,  a  city  of  palaces  296 
Genoa  to  Nice,  nine  days'  travel                 '  29T 

Hotel  fare  in  Liverpool                       '  16 

Heather,  in  bloom  60 

Hotel  des  Invalids,  military  hospital  140 
Hotel,  do   its  dimensions  and  management  1<^ 

Hotel,  do    it  is  the  tomb  of  Napoleon  160 

Hotel  accommodations,  Paris,  table  'dote  166 

Iron,  (iimaces  in  England,  construction  60 

Image  of  the  Tlrgln  at  Turin  260 

Jura  Mountains,  crossing  in  night  206 

Jura  Mountains,  view  from  their  summit  20T 

Jews'  quarter  at  Rome  618 

Kossuth,  designed  to  land  in  Sardinia  216 

King  and  Queen  of  Sardinia,  their  habits  244 

Liverpool,  Its  rise  and  institutions  10 
Liverpool,  docks,  gridiron,  observatory    19,  20 

Lancaster,  and  its  surroundings  48 

Louvre,  its  sculpture  and  painting  160 

Leman,  Lake,  view  from  Jura  Alps  20T 

La  Tour,  capital  of  Piedmont  2C0 

La  Tour,  university  and  literary  privileges  256 

La  Tour,  Its  churoh,  liturgy,  etc.  966 

La  Tour,  hospital,  to  which  all  repair.  291 

Leghorn,  Aree  port,  population  88T 

Leghorn,  superstition  of  the  people  888 

Leghorn,  its  prosperity  checked  by  Genoa  88T 

Lago  di  Tartaro,  its  waters  400 

Mont  Blanc,  view  firom  Jura  Alps  20T 
Merle  d'  Aubigne,  visit  to 
Mount  Osnls,  eroisUif  of 


572 


INDEX. 


Moant  Oenis,  fog  deioeiuUiiff,  praonnor  of 

rain  M5 

Monaco,  kingdom  of  800 

Mosaic  Work,  manufacture  of  845 

Madlni  Family,  suffering  peraecuilons  847 

Maaa  at  Piaa,  waiting  boy  849 

Monastery  of  Ban  Martlno  688 

Museum  of  paintings  087 

Museum  of  antiquities,  of  Pompeii,  etc.  087 
Museum  of  obscene  Images  from  Pompeii     S28 

Kotre  Dame,  dimensions,  form,  style  168 

Notre  Dame,  its  pictures,  statuary,  etc.  1$8 

Nloe,  arrlyal  at,  a  place  of  resort  866 

Ocean  life  9 

OUre  groTCS,  on  declirHle*  ^ 

Paisley,  its  general  aspect  58 

Place  de  Oarousal,  Paris  110 

Palace  of  the  ThuiUeries  111 

Place  de  la  Goneord,  its  associations  118 

nace  Vendome,  description  168 

Passports,  system  of,  a  nuisance  188 

Paris,  population  and  extent  808 

Protestant  preaching  in  Paris  808 

Po)  valley  of,  leads  to  La  Tour  851 

Paintings  of  Ohrist,  impropriety  841 

Petti  palace,  Its  paintings  848 

Paintings,  awful  scenes  depicted  896 
Passengers,  fellow,  who  they  are                9,  10 

Passage  over,  delightful  18 

Pisa,  Tlsit  to  847 

Punioum,  ancient  891 

Pilate,  house  of  488 

Pantheon,  of  Rome,  desoripiieo  487 

Palace  of  the  Pope,  description  489 

Qnirinal  hlU,  papal  palace  441 

Sulrinal  hlU,  equestrian  statues,  Oastor  eto.443 

allroad,  ciril  engineer  50 

Bace-course  at  Paisley,  visit  to  61 

fiouen,  general  appearance  109 

Bailroad  through  Alpine  mountains  898 

Borne,  nearlng  It  through  darkness  891 

Borne,  6TBt  sight  of  Bt.  Peters  891 

Boms,  vexation  about  passports  891 

Borne,  Sabbath  in,  season  of  devotion  898 

Borne,  reflection  on  Sabbath  morning  898 

Boms,  her  religion  at  home  518 

Bome,  her  tyranny  and  oppression  514 

Borne,  her  youth,  government  615 

Bome,  her  agriculture  516 

Bome,  blasphemous  pretensions  of  517 
Bea-slckness  8, 581 
flpeed,  daUy  increase  of,  limited             11,    18 

Dcotlaod,  progress  towards,  scenes  80 

Sheffield,  making  steel  68 

Steel,  manufacture  of  68 

itratiford  on  Avon,  Shakspeare  64 

Stratford,  pleasant  Sabbath  at  64 

Shakspeare  and  his  enemy  Ooomb  97 

8t.  Paul's  Cathedral  100 

gt.  Paul's  Cathedral,  dimensions,  etc.  101 

teamers  compared  with  American  108 

Seine,  vall^  of,  cultivation  109 

Sabbath  In  Paris,  how  spent  808 


8«sa,  sltaation  and  eorroandlngB 

San  Bemo,  its  sarreondlnga 

St.  Stephen,  order  of,  at  Asa 

St.  Stephen,  their  blood-thirsty  religion 

St.  Peters,  visit  to,  on  Sabbath  \ 

St.  Peters,  statue  of  Jupiter  adored  as  St. 

Peter's  J 

St.  Petors,  what  modeled  after 
St.  Petets,  Its  site,  why  selected 
St.  Peters,  Its  architects  896, 

St.  Peters,  bnllt,  in  part,  by  sale  of  indnl 

gensles 
St.  Peters,  its  dimensions  and  cost         897. 
St.  Peters,  idolatry,  debauchery,  painttoga 
St.  Peters,  relics,  piece  of  the  tme  tnm 
St.  Peten,  mosaics  on  the  dome 
St.  Peters,  baU,  ascent  to,  prospect  488 

St.  Peters,  illumination  of  4M 

Seneca,  his  study  and  bath  684 

St.  Januarius,  ohurch  of,  Naples 
St.  Januarius,  his  statue,  queUing  Vssavios 
Table  on  ocean  steamer,  its  luxuries  U 

Tory  Island,  its  history,  etc  18 

Tower  of  London,  visit  to  99 

Tower  of  London,  its  officials,  etc.  9t 

Tower  of  London,  prison  of  Sir  W,  Baleigh  199 
Tower  of  London,  instrnmentB  of  tortare  109 
Tunnel,  Thames 

ThuiUeries,  its  palace  aad  garden 
Table  d'HoU 

Theatres,  their  moral  tendency 
Theatrical  church  services 
Turin,  our  Cb^iipB  de  'AflUres 
Turin,  protestantism  gaining 
Temples  of  Fortune  and  Vesta 
Tlvoll  and  Hadrian's  Villa 
nolversity,  of  the  Waldenses 
University,  religious  trainingt  He* 
University,  stud^ats  board  in  families 
University,  of  Pisa,  visit  to 
Vatican,  its  dimensions,  etc. 
Vatican,  Its  hall  of  audience,  paintings 
Vatican,  its  SIsUne  chapel,  painttngs 
Vatican,  galtories  of  pslntings,  seu^pCiure     6S9 
Vatican,  Its  GaUeria  Lapidarea  4M 

Vatican,  sarcopbafi,  Btnisoan  Hnseon       499 


111 
169 
901 
901 
84T 
94T 
484 


49 

IM 


m 


VlUa  Rosplgllosi,  Aurora  of  GuMo 

Versailles,  palace  grounds 

Versailles,  its  pictures  and  sculpture 

Vinyards,  like  fields  of  Indian  com 

Vaudois  chureh  at  Turin 

Villa  Franca,  i^ace  of  resort 

Villa  PeUevicinl.  visit  to 

Villa  Pellevicini,  lU  grounds  and 

Villa  Albani,  the  Pope's  residence 

ViUa  Albani,  riohness  Ui  statuary,  palntlair  419 

Wine,  strong,  general  at  dinner  19 

Warwiek  Oastie  II 

Westminister  Abbey,  monnmeDts  169 

Wine-drinking  in  Franoe,  eSeet  IBT 

Waldenses,  civility  aad  politeness  891 

Wine  ftom  grape,  making  894 

Wine,  cheap,  promotes  temperanee 


INDEX 

TO  D.  BBTHT7KK  DUFrtBLD>  "  JOtTRNAL  LEAVB8  OF  AS  BUROPBAN  RAMBLE." 


Ada,  Onnard  steamer,  embartc  la 
AiMT  Peari9,  testing  l«s  depth 
Arctic,  reflections  on  ber  Ikte 
Air,  fresh,  bouiy  to  a  sailor 
Boston,  embarit  from 
Bells,  calling  to  duty,  explained 
Boat  in  fog,  oseephig  into  HalUks 
Boat,  emblem  of  some  great  men 
Baltimore  HuDlly,  site  w 
Oallfomlan,  upholds  mob-law 


891 
981 
471 
516 


978 


«M 


Oard-piaylBg,  BagUsh  and  Fruufli 

04pe  Clear,  passing  It 

Dinner  below,  described 

IMnner  bdow,  noMttes  and  law 

BBgllsh,  all  sailorsi 

BbgUsh,  beaten  bgr  thetr  yooBf  rtnls 

Bngines,  f»aniin!ng  theni 

Bngland,  flnt  iighi  of,  remlulwjeuees 

nguro'head  of  steamer,  garif  dad 

fog-whUtte,  Its  terrible 


419 


INDBX 


673 


Rre-nMui,  In  mm!  ui4  tWMt  vtth  rottbud  874 
fk«-ni«n,  at  thdr  ■alfery  taaki 
■Mail  Oloaghf  capped  hy  a  Ught-hont* 
0kxifl,  from  BMUkz  through  the  fog 

^tombler,  hia  moral  dMinetlons  518 

Qambllng,  a  detestable  Ttoe  618 

ttsmbling,  trench  ladlee  61% 

■tfifkz,  first  Tiew  from  boat  4M 

■tiifax,  pilot  from,  acoepted  4flB 

Balifax,  He  rctemblance  to  Maddnav  46B 

H«Ufajc«  Its  beavtifka  baj  466 

IfaHfaT,  lad  nevB  to  Kngliah  and  French  408 

HoUy  Head,  with  broad  forehead  684 

IMberii,  their  awfril  mi^Jeaty  870 

ICebergB,  meeting  one  618 

Irdand,  first  slg^t  of  681 

Irdand,  her  otonn-eloiide,  deliverance  681 

Jack,  old,  his  answers  898 

Jahn  BoU,  at  Uhle  487 

John  Boll,  enoonnter  with  an  American  467 

«•  Land  of  the  West"  874 

Lady,  with  pen  utd  hik,  sospMoos  418 

ario,  steamer,  for  a  newspaper  614 

d-ocean,  reflections  480 

■ersey,  entering  and  passing  np  the  686 

nswspaper,  boat's,  read  617 

OMan,  old,  its  strange  aspeet  986 

Ocean,  empUed,  what  si|^ts  appear  471 


Ooean,  seen  in  his  grandeur  606 

•«  'Porij  hord'a-port,**  alarm  cry  481 

Porpoises,  along  side  the  boat  619 
Pilot,  sad  news  from  Bebastopol 
Rum,  boofcet  of,  twice  a  d*y  to  sailora 
8ea-aickness,  an  instance  of 

Sea-Biekness,  Instances  mnltipMng  894 

Sea-sickness,  rereries  on  the  WBedf-boose  896 
Sea-sickness,  J.  delirers  himself  and  slopes  898 

Sonnding,  sheUfl^from  ocean's  bed  871 

Sokey,  her  importance  8T1 

Sokey,  gratitude  ef  her  dependants  871 

Shnflle-board,  game  of,  explained  418 

Sailors,  English,  not  profane  41f 

Steamboat,  wonderltal  adTaace  480 

Sabbath  in  mid-ocean  471 

Sabbath,  public  worship  on  boat  479 
Sabbath,  worship,  eifect  on  the  passcBgert    618 

Steamer  lyric,  oocaslon  of  it  614 

Storm,  rising  of,  offset  619 

Storm,  its  Tiolenee  for  three  days  681 

Skerry's  light  en  Anglesea  684 

Telegraph,  transatlantic  470 

Whistle,  fog,  its  scream  in  the  night  888 

Whistle,  boatswain's,  its  sweet  cadences  879 

Whistle,  Its  make,  history,  ond  eflhct  879 

Wbeel-bonse,  place  of  resort  41ft 


INDEX 

TO   W.    ISBAM^S   **LAND   OF  THE   FTRAMIUB." 


Alexandria,  scene  in  the  harbor  91 
Alexandria,  ancient,  rise,  grandenr,  fiJl  80,  81 
Alexandria,  ancient,  fsmed  for  phUosophy 

and  theology  89 

Acacia  trees,  at  Alexandria  87 

Abbas  Pacha,  his  character  114 

Acacia,  gtun  arablo  species  910 

Anthony,  the  first  monk  979 

Assouan,  frontier  town  806 

Abydos,  temples  of,  parchment  888 

Abram,  Us  adrent  to  Kg3rpt  409 

Anteopolis,  temple  washed  away  404 

Bottles,  of  skin,  incident  91 
Boys  and  girls,  their  strength,  endurance      94 

Bath,  at  Oalro,  process  described  74 

Barley,  scripture  UlustraUoD  910 

Bastinado,  witnessed  918 
BMtlnado,  its  cruel  Infliction,  the  result       914 

Beni  Hassan,  tombs  of  988 

Mrds  of  the  Nile,  description  410 

Birds,  fond  of  elTtllsation  418 

Castom-house,  scene  at  91 

Oanal  basin,  scene  at  96 

Oimcls,  as  beasts  of  burden  26 

Cleopatra's  Needl^  89 

Oatacombs,  not  Egyptian  89 

Oanal,  from  Alexandria  to  the  Nile  88 

Oanal,  Hs  length,  dimensions,  how  built  88 

Cairo,  its  great  square  87 

Cairo,  Its  streets,  houses  and  shops  88 

Cairo,  horrid  gutturals  In  the  stred  89 

Cairo,  torch-bearinc,  whlp-craokteg  70 

Cairo,  its  creaking  dirt  carts  70 

Cairo,  the  crow  In  its  fine  dress  71 

Cairo,  dogs  In  their  own  quarter  71 

Oalro,  beatings  In  the  street  71 

Cairo,  Its  mneashis  and  preachen  79 

Oilro,  its  inarters  and  diTisloaa  78 

Carlo,  Jews*  quarter,  how  apprectaled  78 

Cairo,  its  pnbHc  and  prlrafe  baths  78 

Otnal,  from  Nile  to  Cairo  76 

Cteal,  water  let  Into  at  the  ormSiom  75 

Oliial,  jubilee,  tragical  wmH»  76 

COIadel,  of  Cairo,  tMI  to  78 


176, 


Cane,  sugar 

Cotton,  triennial,  etc. 

Crops,  field  and  garden 

Chlcken-hatehing 

OollossI,  seated,  fllty-two  feet  high 

OoUoBsi,  musical  powers  of  one 

GoUossi,  field  of  the,  exhumed 

Canaanite,  on  walls  of  Kamao 

Oanaanlte,  a  white  man,  not  a  n^pro 

Cataract,  first,  description 

Crocodile,  rolling  into  the  water 

Crocodile,  description  of,  pet,  embalmed 

Cambyses,  his  trick  at  Peluslum 

Camel,  taking  rest,  description 

Caravan,  Pilgrim 

Conquerors  of  Egypt 

Copts,  their  religion,  public  worship 

Copts,  how  priests  and  monks  are  made 

Copts,  origlDal  inhabitants  ef  EgjrpI 

Copts,  their  number,  trades.  Immunities 

Climate  of  Egypt,  In  winter 

Correney  of  Egypt,  rexations  ef 

Donkey  and  donkey-man 

Dragomans,  welcome  me  to  Egypt 

Dragomans,  offer  to  take  me  up  the  NUc 

Donkey-man's  impudence 

Donkeys,  frmeral  procession,  a  melee 

Donkeys,  cruel  treatment  of 

Dogs,  jackal,  attacked  by,  in  osmttary 

Denrishes,  whirling,  their  feats 

Dervishes,  other  classes,  their  feata 

Deities,  under  ground 

Desert,  eastern  to  the  Red  Sea 

Dromedary,  dUTers  from  eamd 

Denderah,  temple  of 

Denderah,  where  Sepoya  wenhlpped 

Denderah,  Denoa'a  mlatake 

Denderah,  why  pagans  gtre  ao  firealy 

Dragoman,  hia  dreaa  and  tactica 

Delta,  or  Lower  Egypt 

^gyptlana,  how  they  cow  oadsr  Hm  MOWie 

^rpt,  grand  welcone  to 

Biyptlana,  their  oppreaalena  aDA  tab 

■fcrthanwait,  lU  aBaged  gwalhtai 


910 

910 
910 
911 


808 
814 
814 
818 


408 
405 
408 

407 
487 
414 
481 


99 


90 

110 
110 
918 

9a 

806 


SI 


■^ 


574 


INDEX. 


Authenw«re,  clay  beit  adapted  for  Ife  170 

Isnet  temple  of,  splendid  portico  966 

Suet  caraTan  trade  of,  Goptf  866 

Itaoe,  coffee  hoaaet,  SchooU  sioglng  cirde  8M 

Xmet  eating  house,  baking  cakes  267 

Bleitheias,  tombe  of  described  267 

Kdfou,  great  temple  and  propylon  270 

fcgyptians,  ancient,  their  religion  271 
l^ephantine,  its  peoplet  beanty,  and  niios    807 

■gypt,  hmnan  nature  in  817 

festival,  great  Mohammedan  116 

Festival,  its  devotional  exercises  117 

Festival,  the  annual  miracle  117 

Festival,  beating  back  the  crowd  118 

Flax,  field  of,  description  209 

Fayoum,  valley  of,  once  a  reservoir  '  408 

Fayonm,  its  canals,  lake,  and  products  4(^ 

Fayoum,  its  chief  town,  its  ruins  409 

Gentleman,  meaning  in  Egypt  23 

fientieman,  snobbishness  of  Americans  28 

€^ts,  odd  appearance  of  28 

Grass,  wild,  tree-like  211 

Governmental  machinery  212 

Governmental  machinery,  its  operation  212 

Gods,  assembly  of,  dug  up  218 

Ck>rnoo,  temple  of  224 

Granite,  rose-colored,  ledges  of  807 

Gaselle  and  antelopes  816 

Geese,  wild,  their  great  numberB  410 

Hunchback,  story  of  171 

Bennent,  temple  of  264 

Hippopotamus,  description  814 

Hyena  and  Jackal  815 
Hyena,  Jackal,  wild  beasts  in  Abram*stime816 

Horse,  Arab,  description  855 

Horse,  of  ancients,  pictured  in  tombs  856 

Hieroglyphics,  explained  864 
Hieroglyphics,  little  yet  achieved,  obstacles  866 

Ibrlhim  Pasha,  his  character  114 

Ichneumon,  its  niisHion  815 

Idolatry,  Egyptian,  origin  816 

Israelites,  tiieir  bondage  and  exod«i  402 

Ibis,  most  sHcred  bird  of  the  Nile  418 

Jugglery  in  iVypt  116 

Jacob,  his  advent  to  Egypt  401 

Karnac,  approach  to  219 

Kamac,  Hail  of  pillars,  its  grandeur  220 

Karnac,  other  apartments,  obelisks  220 

Karnac,  its  adytum,  looks  new  220 

Kamac,  its  wails,  their  heigiit,  thickness  221 

Karnac,  hyeroglpphio  adornments  221 

Kamac,  sculptural  Rcene  on  the  wall  821 

Koum  Onibns,  ruins  of  806 

Lakes  Etko  and  Mcrcotis,  high>way  88 
I*kes  Etlco  and  Mereotis,  waters  let  to  flow* 

Ing  from  the  Sea  88 

Luxor,  temple  of,  description  215 

Luxor,  women  grinding  at  a  mill  215 

Laxor,  propylon,  battle  scenes  215 

Luxor,  obell5iks  and  statues  216 

Luxor,  its  other  apartments,  dimensions  217 

Library,  Alexandrian  867 

**  Land  of  Egypt,"  geography  of  463 

Mamalukes,  their  origin  and  rise  76 
Mamalukes,  their  tyranny  and  oppressions  76 
Mamalukes,  slaughtered,  extenninated  77,  78 
Mohammed  Ail,  what  he  did                     79,  118 

Magicians,  of  Egypt  115 

Mfldinet  Abou,  temple  of  228 

Mohammedans,  their  devotlona  272 
Misrahn,  head  of  first  dynasty              364,  401 

Mohammedan  religion  449 

Marriage  and  divorce  in  Egypt  454 

Memphis,  site  of,  reflections  456 

Medloiae,  scienca  of,  in  ancient  SgypI  457 

Nile,  first  view,  Its  magnitude  85 

Nile,  annual  rise  and  fall,  cause  of  it  86 
Hue,  rains  in  Abyssinia,  wafted  Arom  Bgyvi  60 
Nile,  rains  return  with  moistora  and  ftrtiiity  66 

HU^  riyer  bottom,  rising  66 


Nile,  ita  wheels  for  raising  water  M 

Nile,  coodoetliig  it  Into  the  fleUi  9^ 

Ntlomcter,  public  crier,  ete  TO 

Nile,  getting  ready  to  ascend  196 

Nile,  vessel  all  to  myself  128 

Nile,  laying  In  provisions  1S7 

Nile,  scene  before  vice  consul  liT 

Nile,  seven  clubs  for  defence  127 

Nile-boat,  description  of  187 

Nile,  ascent  of,  my  captain  and  msa  161 
Nile,  ascent,  had  to  treat  crew  like  ehildran  161 

Nile,  ascent,  had  to  exercise  authority  168 

Nile,  ascent,  trick  to  get  money,  exposore  168 

Nile,  ascent,  social  proclivities  of  crew  168 

Nile,  ascent,  captain  r«scues  me  164 
Nile,  ascent,  water-lifMng,  crotdi  and  sweep  164 

Nile,  ascent,  rural  villages,  pigeon  houses  166 

Nile,  ascent,  girls  with  pifcherrof  water  167 

Necropolis,  of  Thebes,  reflections  857 

Nubian  slave-dealer,  his  plea  806 

Nile,  floating  down  »10 

Napoleon,  his  corps  of  Savans  868 

Overflow,  annual,  rejoicing  84 

Overflow,  annual,  sweeps  away  villages  86 

Oxen,  yoke,  plow,  etc.  211 

Osymandias,  temple  of  226 

Osymandias,  gigautlo  statne.  In  fragmants  826 

Oases,  In  Lyblan  desert  818 

Paradox  85 

Palm,  date,  its  appearance  89 

Pompey's  pillar,  misnamed  80 

Pyramids  of  Ghtea,  dykes  180 

Pyramids,  magnitude,  optical  illusion  180 

Pyramids,  ascent,  view  from  summit  ISO 

Pyramidii,  descent  into  the  interior  188 

Pyramids,  Arab  skipping  up  and  down  188 

Pyramids,  design,  when  built,  by  whom  184 

Pyramids,  cased  with  polished  stone  184 

Pyramids,  their  surroundings  186 

Potterv,  piled  upon  the  Nile  168 

Potter^B  wheel,  same  as  ancients  166 

Peasantry,  character  and  habits  176 

Pulse,  field  of,  its  beauty  806 

Palmi  Christi,  mustard,  etc.  810 

niiloe.  Island  of,  remains  of  80i 

Pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  caravan  860 

Pelican,  beauty  of  its  plumage  411 

Pharaoh,  not  drowned  in  the  Bed  Sea  408 

Russian  prince,  in  disguise  88 

Rural  villages,  description  166 

Race-course  at  Thebes,  traces  of  884 

Rosetta  stone,  key  to  hyeroglyphica  866 

Rosetta  stone,  in  British  museum  868 

Rosetta  and  Damietta  464 

Scripture  illustration,  "  old  bottles,"  81 

Stone,  a  ton's  weight,  borne  by  four  msa  84 

School,  Moslem,  a  peep  at  88 

Swallows,  sea,  in  a  palm  grove  89 

Sparrow,  Egyptian,  social  qualities  80 

Scene  In  London  87 

Scripture  illustration,  etc  66 

Sycamore  tree,  at  Oalro  67 

Serpent  charmers  in  Egypt  116 

Serpent  charmers,  introduction  to  116 

Sphinx,  great,  description  125 

Scripture  illusUation,  tlie  potter's  art  169 
Scripture  illustration,  straw,  food  for  camels  170 
Scripture  illustration,  straw,  making  brick  170 

Spinning  cotton,  two  women  174 

Spinning  cotton,  process,  description  176 

Scripture  illustration,  barley  and  wheat  910 
Scripture  illustration,  threshins  impliimenks  811 

Scripture  illustration,  she^  from  goatf  911 

Sphinxes,  avenue  of  819 

Siout,  tombs  of  described  869 

SUslly,  quarries  of  806 

Sphinx,  half  wrought  at  Silsily  969 

Shepherd  kings,  era  of  d91 

Shepherds,  abominations  to  Kgyptiaaa  691 

Beptuagsnt,  aathoxitj  in  chronotogy  409 


IKDEX. 


515 


0eMWtil8,  accoanto  of  him,  troe  408 

9oat,  caasewaj,  sacred  city  406 

fltork,  the  white,  It*  hablU  410 

seaaoos  In  Egypt,  how  dlylded  414 

fleasona  Id  Egypt,  Intermingle,  nerer  raJaa  416 

Bahit  at  his  derotlons  449 

8«r*raff.  character  and  tactics  461 

Thebes,  arrival  at  216 

Tombs,  of  Thebes,  their  design  267 

Tombs,  of  Thebes,  inhabited  by  the  living  257 

Tombs,  of  Thebes,  crawling  In  on  all-foars  258 

Tombs,  of  Thebes,  paintings,  their  Import  259 


Tombs,  of  Thebes,  of  the  kings,  deacrlptioB  860 
Tomlat,  valley,  the  land  of  Qosben  464 

Tamarisk,  description  of  20 

Trefoil,  aocks  and  herds  200 

Threshing  machine  211 

Water-lifting,  crotch  and  sweep  166 

Wheat,  Its  luxuriance  200 

Well,  under  the  tropic  Wt 

Women  of  Egypt,  face-vails  668 

Women  of  Egypt,  on  horseback,  in  a  litter  660 
Women  of  Egypt,  how  estimated,  pollgamy  454 
Women  of  do,  marriage,  divorce,  education  466 


INDEX 


i( 


TO  W.  ISHAM  8  '*  CARAVAN  JOURNEY  ACROSS  THE  LONG  DESERT. 


Ain  Ifusa,  fountain  of  Hoses 
Arabia,  Petrea,  Deserta,  Velbc 
Akaba,  gulf  of,  reached 
Akaba,  village,  site  desirable 
Bones,  of  camels,  along  the  way 
Bedouins,  encampment  of  them 
Bedouin^s  Paradise 


600 
545 
546 
648 
499 
604 
504 


Bedouin's  Paradise,  Mt.  Paran  of  Habakknk  605 

Bedouins,  live  as  Abram  did  605 

Bedonins,  government  patriarchal  606 

Earning  Bush,  still  growing  510 

Bedouins,  character  and  habits  650 

Caravan,  fitting  it  out  498 

Cairo  to  Suez,  valley  from  497 

Church  at  Sinai,  pictures  610 

Corinthian  tomb  at  Petra  656 

Central  area,  remains  on  657 

Deserts,  "long"  and  '* short**  497 

Dromedary,  how  he  rides  498 

Desert,  dryness  of  the  air  501 

Desert,  life  in  the,  pleasant  512 

Desert,  claimed  as  God's  country  547 

Egypt,  leave  it  with  regret  497 

Ellm,  where  Israelites  camped  502 

Biim,  wells  and  palm  trees  602 

Ellm,  beautiful  plain  502 

Elijah's  cave  and  chapel  509 

Islongeber,  Solomon's  port  547 

Elath,  supplants  Eziongeber  648 

Edifice,  base  a  hundre<i  feet  up  655 

Edifice,  two  hundred  feet  np  656 

Edifice,  like  the  Kaane  656 

Edifice,  only  one  ornamented  witUn  556 

Ghiats,  sheep,  camels,  asses  606 

Gebel  Sussafre  508 

Honssein,  Sheik,  his  character  648 

Hor,  Mount,  prospect  Arom  651 

Incense,  clouds  of  it  510 

Kasne,  or  Treasury  of  Pharaoh  554 

Kame,  view  from  eastern  inlet  554 


Mirage,  its  appearance 

Marah,  the  bitter  fountain 

Mountain,  like  purple  cloud 

Mount  Hor,  ascent  of 

Mount  Seir,  range  of 

"  Nubbuck,"  a  stone  froit 

Ophlr,  where  was  It? 

Pyramid,  natural  one,  almost 

Petra,  centre  of  caravan  trade 

Petra,  its  main  central  area 

Petra,  its  narrow  inlet 

Petra,  its  gorges  and  Irregolarities 

Pencillings,  nature's,  at  Petra 

Petra,  scraps  of  its  history 

Petra,  its  doom  announced 

Queen  of  Sheba,  or  the  South 

Red  Sea,  retires  and  we  pass  over 

Red  Sea,  bathing  in,  water  dear 

Rock,  smitten  by  Moses 

Rocks,  en^'otesque  forms  of 

River  channels,  dryi 

Red  Sea,  eastern  arm,  reached 

Rain  water,  channels  in  ledges 

Succoth,  of  the  scriptures 

S  heik,  my  engagement  witti 

Sheik,  his  appearance 

Suez,  what  it  was,  and  is  now 

Scenery,  strangely  romantic 

Sheik,  my,  transformation 

Sinai,  Mount,  arrival  at 

Sinai,  convent,  garden,  etc. 

Sinai,  ascent  of,  view  from  soaunit 

Sinai,  last,  parting  view  of  It 

"  Shadow  of  a  great  rock  '* 

Salim,  Sheik,  his  memoir 

Sheiks,  their  tactics 

Steps,  up  the  ledge,  at  intervals 

Theatre,  remarkable  remains 

Temple  El  Deir,  description 


400 
500 
fiOO 
ttO 

661 
606 

6«r 

668 
664 
668 
666 
660 
669,660 
64T 
600 
608 
610 
518 
646 
640 
668 
486 
486 


480 
608 

606 
607 
60T 
608 
6U 
645 
640 
640 
667 
660 
867 


INDEX 

TO  W.  P.  ISHAJf's  "sketches  OF  BORDER  LIFE." 


Apothecary  shop,  ludicrous  scene  277 

do  do  Hawk-eye  1b  attendance  277 
do  do  search  for  sugar  of  lead  277 
do         do     final  catastrophe  278 

Boats,  steam',  on  Mississippi  44 

Boats,  steam,  compared  with  Lake  boats  46 
Camping-ground,  arrival  at  86 

Camping  ground,  general  surrey  of  It  87 

Camp-life,  specimens  of  it  180 

Cattle  frozen  stiff  in  their  tracks  178 

Camp,  removhig  to  a  distance  188 

Ownp-meetlngs,  for  the  season  280 

Carap-meeetlngs,  preachers,  the  preaching  250 
Camp-meetings,  attending  one  of  them  278 
Oamp-meeUngs,  ground  described  878 

OuBp-meeUiics,  horn  blown  for  serrices      874 


Camp-meetings,  sermon,  effect 
Cook,  our,  got  mad  and  left 
Cook,  got  a  poor  substitute 
Cook,  good  only  to  watch  tent 
Cook,  battle  with  hogs,  his  defeat 
Cook,  packs  up  and  leaves 
Dinner  of  soup,  without  spoons 
Eggs,  at  three  cents  a  dozen 
Eggs,  number  we  ate  in  a  week 
Ferry-boat,  ingenious  contrivance 
Farming  in  Iowa 
Gambling,  ou  Mississippi  steamer 
Gambler,  clerical  looking  one 
Gambler,  one  with  a  benevolent  ftee 
Gambler,  garrulous  little  man,  Ui  trlcki 
Game,  wild,  shooting  ezcunloa 


874 
875 
286 
876 
876 
27T 
161 
828 


184 
48 
48 
48 
4A 

180 


676 


INDEX. 


Hotel,  lodgtof  and  breakflut  81 

Hunter,  old  backwoodaman  179 

Banter,  his  fanny  "  jarni«"  and  remaxka  1^ 

Hammocks,  experimeut  with  227 

Hammocks,  iumblins  to  the  ground  226 

Iowa,  arrlral  and  landlaj?  45 

Iowa,  population  much  mixed  17d 

Klck-behtndj  steamer  44 

Kentuckian,  Fred,  snake  in  bed  with  him  180 

JLevees,  on  Mississippi  42 

Lflidies,  Iowa,  female  edaeation  88 

lllssissippi,  diflficultlcs  of  navigation  40 

Mississippi,  a  ride  alonfr  Its  bank  SI 

Bfflssourians,  George  and  Jerry  ^ 

Market,  want  of,  how  to  be  remedied  177 

Musquitoes,  torment  of  the  jungle  IM 

Mntquitoes,  triumph  over  all  opposition  225 

Prairie,  tall  in'ass  82 

Prairie,  wanderlni?  over  it,  illusion  84 

Prairie,  a  ni^'ht  on  it  nione  with  wolret  85 

Parties,  dancing  and  jolliflcation  181 

QuUtint;  party,  retreat  from  SJ 

Barlnes,  thickets  of  haccl  brush  131 


Steamer,  on  Mississippi  44,  45 

■teamer,  pilot,  his  import4ace,  extortlMii      4fi 

Steamer,  deck  hands,  deprared,  abated  H 

Steamer,  mates,  thefr  profanity  41 

Steamer,  steam-whistle  as  a  lignal  41 

Steamer,  landing  at  night  4t 

Surveying  party,  our,  described  .S8 

Supper,  on  the  camp-chest  Itt 

Smoking  and  Jokhig  10 

Singing  school,  attending  a  179 

Scene  In  the  jangle  194 

Snakes,  antidote  to  their  bites  996 
Snakf»,  one  in  bed  with  one  of  as 
Snakes,  rattles,  etc.,  kept  as  trophies 
Store-keepers,  position  and  influence 
Stores,  centres  of  social  Intercourso 
Stores,  till  lately,  trade  all  barter 

Tales  by  the  camp-fire                          *  198 

University,  female,  at  Darenport  84 

Wolves,  a  night  wiUi  them  on  prairie  89 

Watenuelomi,  their  abundance  194 

Wolvc«,  prairie  and  black  17S 

Wolves,  girl  torn  to  pieces  by  17S 


INDEX 

TO  O.  HATHAWAY's  "travels  1>-  the  SOITH-WEST.** 


Ann  EHza,  arrival  at 

Ann  Eliza,  '^  mine  ho5t  **  of 

Alexander,  Mr.,  bis  plantation 

JBoat,  Illinois  river,  pas.S'.'n.'ers 

^Qton  Ark.  mob  hung  a  iii<in 

Bear,  helping  himself  at  table 

Bear,  terribly  scared  by  one 

Bedstead,  desoribed,  break-down 

Bonham,  dinner,  a  sif  ht 

Beds  and  ijed- fellows,  instance 

Cairo,  Ita  location,  etc..  T)roRiH.ctji 

Oairo,  its  levees,  tht-ir  extent 

Oatro,  drain  pipes  t'uoiu'li  levees 

C".'ro,  pu  11  pin;:,  in  hij  li  water 

CtiMn  to  st.iy  at,  ro  >:I..'h;  aid  ehi^inoyless 

Ct^'-ksvilK;,  1\x:is,  I"r  uu  Wa-l.iuglon 

Cattle  ra  s<'r,  ii.s  lif.-  Jind  lia>>ib3 

Cupid,  lis  \mw  an  1  tlarts 

CaTe<U  E,npto}'y  e.\i»lHtiied 

Cotton-gruwrr,  but  (Hie  Id'-a 

Crelit  ^yU'Xw,  in  cott  m  re  'ion 

Ciedit  HVMteui,  ite  disastrous  e&cct 

Ct^'li  pystiMi,  its  liai>i)y  ellect 

C'nird  th»*ir  style  and  paucity 

CaUlf'-jrrowiPL',  p*"  ^fitahle 

Oh.\tli.-ld,  a  post  oai:  jtovo 

Clint  del.',  rertt  of  wa'tii  an'!  refinement 

C'wcitiHPi,  nt  fit  of  tliievps  and  murderers 

Di  fr,  "  lire-hunt,"  destcribed 

D-iMi'orfieid,  ;.'ood  fire 

Dallai*,  Its  surr.dind'ups 

Jini^rrant  faiu'ly  in  dintresf 

Helena,  chan.Ms  iii  tlie  harl)or 

Helena,  as  ft  Itusiness  place 

H;iclc-driver,  iny,  once  a  slave 

Haclc-driver,  Ills  ))arerit'i;»e,  connectiona 

Hack-driver,  prnprietor  of  livery  stable 

**Inn,"  at  Uel  River  ferry 

JeffiTSon,  Texas,  its  rifle  and  fall 

Kentuclcian  and  his  wife 


;^ 

477 
1«6 
237 
285 

2S9 
2-57 
8S1 
5t)6 
13<) 
ISti 
187 
137 
2:32 
2j}S 
8.>i) 
413 
47(1 

hlJ 
^2fi 
637 
fiM 

:m 

570 
571 
2-»o 
8% 

279 
1S5 
186 
280 
2.W 
279 
2S0 
382 
18S 


Kentuckian  arxi  h  iiVt,  former  fellow  trftvelers  189 
lAvry  8tal)le^,  how  manaiyed  931 

Livery  st^iljie,  liorse  and  buggv  from  282 

liittle  Rock,  from  the  ''  Blunfs  "  to  292 

Little  Rock,  country  around  it  289 

Little  Rock,  seat  of  ^ct' mment  238 

Little  Rock,  tastefully  laid  out,  shade  Ireei  284 
Little  Rock,  its  poet  Holdier  and  phlk>aO]^er  884 
Little  Rock,  government  arsenal  295 

Little  Rock,  its  Nicaraguan  ex-niinlater  '285 
I^andlord's  trick  895 

**  Loving  house«"  description  477 


Lawyer,  rovinz  frontlrraman 

Memph's,  situation,  population,  cto. 

M'^niphis,  navy-yard,  waste  of  money 

Meniphis,  adventurer  dreaming  of  fortiUM 

M'-ssis-iippi  river,  obstruotloDS 

Mi3sisxi))pi  carries  away  town  litea 

Mud  and  mire,  deliverance 

Mui<tang,  grape,  for  wine 

McKluney,  racing  and  gambling 

M etho  iist.4,  driving  off  gamblers,  etc 

New  Orleans,  yellow  fever 

Nnpolvon,  its  low  situation 

N'ipolcon,  its  .?roat  swamp,  bears,  etc. 

Napoleon,  its  levce  oo  protection 

Napnleon,  its  U.  S.  hospital 

Neely,  Mrs.,  her  i>elief  m  names 

Neely,  Mni.,  her  lanilly  tactics 

Neely,  Mr.,  ever  after  land  of  promlM 

''Nnrther,"  iti  suddeunes-*,  its  etTect 

"  N'lrther,"  soon  over,  is  tlie  T.  xas  winter 

Out-lit,  neiY,  buy  horses  and  wagon 

P  ue  lliuiTii,  Ark.  location 

Pe  Idlers,  with  forr  mule  teams 

P.<1  ilers,  "tyli^'"  wAffons.  four  fine  horsos 

Pia  .  ie,  exieusve  one,  lunely  drive 

Pn.<t  ui\k  rr<»ve,  descrij>tiun  of  a 

R.ver,  M  s'^'.Piipp],  naviKntlfkn 

R?'i  River,  bottoms,  cane-brakes 

R.'d  river,  suJ'ject  to  overflow,  levees 

Red  river,  h')rril>le  aigiit  in  the cane-brtkss 

Reil  river,  sJieller  in  ti.iigrant  camp 

Red  River,- \alued  new  acquaintances 

Road,  ••  takns  "  it  from  landlord 

Sta>re,  description  of 

Sta;;e,  driver  drunk,  falls  to  the  earth 

StAjje,  Are  built,  wait  for  day -light 

8tHire,  out  of  the  swamp,  pleasant  scsoes 

Slave  whi])ped,  cause  of  It 

Slave  quarters,  pitiful  si|i^t 

Slavery,  to  be  no  slave  state  here 

^mith,  Mr.,  great  eattle>grower 

Virginian,  kept  poor  by  moving 

White's  t&rern,  desorlption 

WashiDi.n.on,  the  country  I  had  pi 

Washington,  the  eoontry  around  it 

White  Oak,  a  family  soene 

Wedding,  fk-ontier  etiquette 

Waxahachi,  its  taste,  and  ntalnssi 

Yellow  fever  on  a  steamer 

TpIIow  fever,  stop  at  night  to  buiy  dead 

Yellow  fever,  rose  to  avoid  qiiTiitlne 

Young  men,  go*d  adTloe  to 


47» 
198 
198 
199 
199 
195 
474 
479 
C94 


199 
197 
1S8 
189 
188 
879 
377 
975 
521 
699 
894 
191 
479 
480 
598 
679 
186 
931 
9S1 
2» 
989 
284 
094 
189 
189 
169 
190 
991 
991 
480 
697 


199 
999 


979 
419 


199 

199 
149 


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